I am uncertain about how to start this letter, so I'll conduct it as if we are conversing on the phone. Yet, that doesn't even feel right. No, this time, I'll just wing it.
It still feels unreal that you're on the other side. Yes, I'm aware that it happened. I was there when it happened, but it still feels as if it occurred at some other time and in some other place.
There are moments when I stare at speed dial number 2, wanting to press the digit. I know that it's disconnected and that even if it were still active, I wouldn't hear your voice anyway.
Yet, I can't take it upon myself to unassign or delete your phone number. I remember the important numbers associated with your existence (Grandpa's too) and still incorporate them in some form or fashion in my life.
Is it just because I don't want to forget, or because I don't want to let go?
On another note, I'm annoyed that Grammarly (this feature that assists with concise language) keeps wanting my language to be concise. I'm ignoring all of the yellow marks because talking with succinctness (especially with you) feels unnatural and inauthentic.
I digress.
I'm not sure if you are aware of this, but ever since Grandpa passed away (the 5th of this month made 13 years), I have written letters to him and have posted them in my online journal. I usually alternate between his birthday and Father's Day.
It would only make sense to honor you in this way as well.
You may be concerned that many people will poke around "to get in business/being nosy", but people do not read as much as they used to. Their attention spans are shorter, so you must get to the point quickly, or they disengage. I am not a fan of this microwave approach to gathering information. Call it the writer in me or for the simple fact that I love language.
In any event, the only people who may be fully invested in this will be Jazz (whom you've met), Teianna and Tracy (whom I've told you about during my college years), and Drew and Leslie (who I've become close friends with since I moved to New Jersey).
I hate that you didn't get a chance to meet the others I've mentioned, especially Teianna and Tracy.
Teianna was so fond of you and said you reminded her of her grandmother. Tracy, you would have loved her. I don't think I ever told Tracy this, but her homemade biscuit recipe tastes just like the ones you would make.
Of course, they all have nicknames 😆.
I thank you for all of the knowledge you passed to me. In hindsight, I should have learned more about sewing. I confess to not having the patience for it. In addition, since the arthritis in my hands is significant, I'm not sure how long I'd be able to hand stitch before my fingers wear out.
I have come to terms that I am unable to write for long periods. Sometimes it makes me sad because I love to write letters to people who are close to me. I still do greeting cards in my downtime.
Speaking of greeting cards, each time I am near the store to grab some, I lose my nerve.
Not really lose my nerve but get emotional.
Because each time I grab greeting cards, I would always grab one for you. I remember how much time I would spend to make sure the sentiment matched what I would say. It took a while for me to stop getting cards for Grandpa. I'm pretty sure this too will be a process.
I am not going to speak too much about the family. I will just say that the more things change, the more things stay the same. I am at peace that I did my part. Nothing organic can be forced.
I am okay and doing the best I can. I have learned over the years that one can have friends who can serve the role of family, and I'm blessed to have people around me who do that.
With that being said, Happy Heavenly Mother's Day.
Love,
Monica
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