Letter to Grandma

Following is a letter I mailed to my 89-year-old grandma today.

Dear Grandma,

I hope you got to use the Dairy Queen Blizzard coupon before it expired. I'm also glad that Zach [her great grandson] has been playing marbles and attending church with you. Did you have a special Easter service?

I've had a busier-than-usual two weeks here. Carl's mom, Louise, visited for three days beginning April 13--the day after we returned home following a whirlwind Easter trip to Wichita. While Louise was here I worked constantly to finish my taxes, which resulted in a very small tax bill. I vow to keep up with my 2009 paperwork so that I will be finished with '09 taxes by February 15, 2010.

Do you remember my friend, Bob? He's an older man--just a very good friend--I met at my first apartment complex my sophomore year of college. We've maintained our friendship all these years. He's 78 years old now and has lost the sight in one eye, but he made the trip to Oswego this past Monday to visit through Thursday. Very enjoyable.

Carl, Hannah and I will travel to Wichita and back tomorrow for Madison's first communion. This is an active time of year for us, activity I welcome after the cooped up, dark days of winter.

My gardens have come to life. The tulips mom planted for me last fall bloomed beautifully. Mom and Carl worked together to plant a small redbud tree, wrapped at its base with the semicircle of yellow and fire-engine-red tulips. Tucked into the arch of tulips is a clump of lavender creeping phlox. I'm kicking myself for failing to take a photo last week because it was spectacular, if I do say so myself.

I spent all day yesterday clearing out our breezeway: emptying the books and clutter from the wall of shelves, throwing away the junk that accumulated and magically multiplied over the winter, and packing away the coats for the season. I'm hoping that an empty room will inspire Carl to resume work on the never ending building project. [Here's another link for any interested blog readers]. I'd like to move the washer and dryer into the 10' x 12' breezeway, convert the current laundry space into a pantry, and put tile down from our stopping place at the new bathroom through the breezeway and pantry and into the kitchen. We'll see.

I've been thinking about the quilt gifting party you held, about transcribing the tapes and watching the videos again. That was an incredible undertaking, Grandma--one I appreciate more with age (age coupled with a complete INability to sew--the sewing gene skipped a generation with me, but just might emerge in Hailey).

I'm impressed at the accomplishment: finishing a quilt for each child. I'm interested in the individual stories behind each quilt and appreciative of the talent required to piece and sew. Truthfully, though, above all of that I'm intrigued by the woman behind it all. I realize I barely know my own grandmother. As a child I perceived you as an "old lady" who liked to play cards and marbles and always set the table for breakfast the night before. Now I'm a middle-aged woman with children of her own and my perspective has changed.

I suspended all efforts towards a career when Carl and I decided to have children and start our own business. Pouring myself completely into those has resulted in a strong marriage, well-rounded and so-far-successful children and a business that has thrived for thirteen years and still operates in spite of this economy. They're like my spring garden: growing and beautiful with minor maintenance and weed-pulling.

But now Hannah will begin all-day kindergarten this fall and I will have hours of free time. I recognize that a big chunk of my life is more like the north side of my house: a few started-but-not-finished projects and absolutely no flowers.

What am I trying to say?... thinking...

I guess what I'm trying to get across is: I have ambiguous feelings. I'm proud of my family, happy with my life, grateful for all the good. At the same time I regret the losses and "wish."

I haven't gone on this self-indulgent trip through the life of Angela as a mere exercise in self-absorption. I'm actually wondering what young motherhood was like for you. I've been told that you were a teacher, but had to give it up either when you married or when Clair [her first child] came along. Is that true? I know you took at least one college class in adulthood. Did you enjoy it? Was there more than one? What kind of education did you need to be a teacher?

Do you have any regrets? Moments of pride?

Maybe this is all too much. If so, I understand. But if you know the answers to those questions, I would love to read them.

Love,
Angela

P.S. One more question: If you gave me one piece of advice, what would it be?