A Letter to Grandma, Two Years Later

Dear Grandma,

Two years – how is it possible? How can it be two years since we said goodbye to you?

This summer, I went to your grave for the first time. My mom captured exactly how I felt when she said, “It doesn’t feel like she’s gone. It just feels like we haven’t seen her in awhile.” Your number is still in my phone, your address is still in my wallet. It simply feels like I haven’t seen you in awhile, but you are still here, in all your vibrancy.

That vibrancy is what I miss most. I miss your laugh, your jokes, your ability to light up a room. I’m sad that my new friends will never get to meet you, never see firsthand the vivacity of Mugs.

We talk about you often, Grandma. We joke about the things you would say if you were still here (mostly we mention the sassy things, of course). I still display a greeting card that you gave me when I moved to Georgia. It says “Good-bye, and remember where you came from…. But try to say nice things about us anyway.” It captured your humor perfectly, and it is a reminder of all the greeting cards sent, and all the ones that would have been to come. You loved me and supported me, always.

I still get teary over your absence, but I rejoice in talking about you, in sharing your spirit, in making sure you stay alive in words, thoughts, and actions. You are, forever, one of my favorite people. One of the good ones. One of the best.

A famous comedian, Stephen Colbert, lost his mother this year, and I was instantly struck by a speech he gave during his TV show. His reflection on his loss parallels my own feelings.

“I know it may sound greedy, to want more days with a person who lived so long, but the fact that my mother was 92 does not diminish – it only magnifies – the enormity of the room whose door has quietly shut.”

I miss you, Grandma. The 83 years of your life were never going to be enough. I will always, always wish you were here.



I love this photo of you – you in one of your happy places

Happy to take any comments!
  1. TA Lesnik says:

    The enormity of loss is ever present. Thank you ADW . Love, Aunt Terry