I’ve been going through some boxes of crap I’ve moved from dorm to apartment to house, trying to clear out the small bedroom in preparation for painting sometime soon. It’s slow going, as it always has been for me. I’m such a packrat.
However… digital photography has made it just a little easier for me to let a few things go. There were some items that I just liked having around for those times when I would go through the box of
crap keepsakes and remember when. I photographed the small clock I got as a present from my high school band director, then threw the broken thing into the thrift pile. I almost did the same with my old marching shoes, until I tried them on and remembered how comfy Drillmasters are. *swoon*
Some things I photographed, but I have no intention of getting rid of. This is one of them:
This card breaks my heart every time I read it. In case you’re not adept at Granny handwriting analysis, the card says:
With lots of love
your Granny + Charles
Sure would like to
hear from you
when you have the time
We love you
Kiss Diana for me I love her
I was in 8th grade, living with Mom and her first husband, Tom. Granny lived with my Uncle Charlie in Florida, and I hadn’t seen her in a few years. (My family lived close to her from the time I was in 3rd grade through the end of 5th grade, and we’d visited once or twice since.)
I had better things to do than sit down and write a letter to my Granny. I was 13 years old, with a best friend and schoolwork and spelling bees.
I had no idea it would be the last Christmas card I’d ever get from Granny.
Granny died just after Thanksgiving of my Freshman year in high school. My choir had just gotten back from a performance at the Public Square lighting ceremony in Cleveland, and my family told me about Granny when they picked me up at the high school. I couldn’t say I truly missed her, or felt a giant loss at the time… but later, not writing Granny would become one of the biggest real regrets of my life.
I hope that Granny understood. She had to have realized that I was a budding teenager, and not into writing letters to my great-grandmother. She’d seen a lot in her life, and having a great-grandbaby who wouldn’t write was probably understandable, if disappointing.
Now that I’m old enough to appreciate what she might have had to say… I miss her.