87 - Grandma Dee
Dear Grandma Dee,
Happy birthday! I miss you. Auntie Geri told me she has dreams of you coming back to life sometimes. I sometimes have those dreams too. But I haven’t in a while... I keep hoping you will come visit me soon.
I have been thinking about you a lot lately. Sometimes I fantasize about what it would be like if you were still here. It feels unfair that you didn’t get to see me grow into being an adult. So much has changed since I was 17. It seems impossible that I lived in New York for 7.5 years and you didn’t even know it. And even though you gifted me with your wonderful sense of direction... I somehow managed to find my way around.
You were always my biggest fan. Do you remember the first time I figured out how to sew a dress for my doll? I was in the fourth grade. You were so excited that you had custom labels made for me. They were light pink with little hearts and had ‘Sasafras Designs’ embroidered in hot pink. Although I no longer go by Sasafras, I still kept the labels. You really had such high hopes for me. I hate to break it to you, but I am afraid I am not doing anything so special with my life right now. But I am trying really hard to figure it out. And I am drawing and writing poetry each day in the process. I know drawing mandalas isn’t life changing. But it makes me happier than anything else. And writing gives me a voice that I have struggled for years to find.
I haven’t written about you yet because I haven’t figured out how to fit you into one poem. Or how to draw you into one mandala. I don’t know how to describe what you meant to me in words. Losing you was the first real heartbreak I have ever felt. I don’t want to hurt anyones feelings by saying this, but you were truly my most favorite person in the entire world. You made me feel so loved. The kind of love that made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the room when I was my most insecure. You made me feel smart when school made me feel stupid. And when I felt invisible you always made a point of seeing me. You made me feel like I was important for doing nothing other than existing.
I miss our conversations about what it means to be Jewish. I miss listening to all your stories about all the places you traveled. And most importantly all the things you bought while in those places. I miss your humor. I miss the way you would do something no one was expecting. Like stand up during thanksgiving and sing a song about what you were grateful for.
You knew how to live. I will forever try to be like you as I grow up.
I love you Grandma Dee forever and always and forever some more.
Love,
Sara
p.s. I hope you are dancing up there. It’s lightning like crazy as I write this, so I imagine you must be having quite the party.