Happy Tuesday, My Friend!
Did you ever feel like you were as insignificant as a grain of sand on a huge beach? Like what you do doesn’t matter one iota in the grand scheme of life? I sure feel that way sometimes. I want to share with you a letter that my youngest granddaughter recently wrote about my mom, her great-grandmother.
Molly is the youngest of three sisters and had the least amount of contact with my mom, just because of her age, but my mom had the most significant impact on her. I’m not sure why; they just had some kind of special connection. I think Molly might have reminded my mom of herself as a little girl. I can still hear my mom telling Molly, “I used to look just like you when I was young.”
Since living in California for the past three or so years, it’s part of the culture there to celebrate Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead). I’d heard of this before and it always sounded sort of morbid to me, but it’s really not. It’s meant to be a time to honor loved ones that have passed away. At Molly’s school, the kids have an opportunity to celebrate family members and friends that are no longer with them.
Molly always remembers Gigi (her name for my mom).
This year, 10-year-old Molly wrote this letter to my mom in heaven: (A couple of things to note—I am “Mags” and she means the Fourth of July parade when she mentions the New Year’s Eve parade.)
Dear Great-Grandma Gigi,
How have you been? Are you having fun right now? You always love to have fun or do something that would be fun to do. I remember how much you love the parades. They were fun to be at, we had a Homecoming parade this year. Mags was talking about how much you liked them and I also remember how much you used to try to get candy, like for the New Year’s or even the Homecoming Parade. The Homecoming Parade is special though, because it only happens every 10 years. I wish that you would have been able to do it with all of us. But at least we all were able to do some of the parades with you, like the New Year’s one. We would get Target bags or plastic ones and stuff them with candy from the parade. We never were able to eat it all. I’m sad you had to go, but at least Mags was able to say good-bye. At least now you can be with your husband. I know you missed him, even though I never met him, I bet he was a very good man. Mags also misses him, and I know everyone misses you a lot. Mags and the other kids of yours visit you as much as they can. I saw you in the summer, I hope you like the flowers we gave you when we visited all together. I know you liked flowers. I remember you thinking they were very pretty. Thank you, and I hope you are well.
Love, Molly
It’s remarkable to me the impression my mom left on little Molly. Molly’s family has never lived near Gigi and only visited during summers, and Molly only saw her Gigi a few times. But just look at the mark Gigi has left on Molly’s life.
So, if you ever feel like you don’t make a big difference, let me just remind you that you might not know what impression you are leaving. Who knew Molly would still be recalling her days with Gigi all this time later?
I hope you remember fondly those loved ones of yours who have already moved on!
Written with love – – – Patti XOXO
Memory is the thread that stitches us to our ancestors.
Gigi and Molly sharing a moment.