A Letter from Grandma...

Dearest Lisa,

Hi! How are you getting along these days.

Keep up the good work. Press on toward the goal. God will see you through.

It's about 8:25 a.m. I ate some cereal but I am still hungry. I have a lot to do today.

I was selected as Asst. Superentender (can't spell it right now) of Church School for 1996. Pray that the Lord will help me in this new job.

Love you always, Mama.

That letter made me smile.

I found it while looking for my work credentials (my "police badge" of sorts for work; Thank God I found it). While looking for it, I came across the letter.

It is dated 12-6-95. I was a young 25 years old waaaaay back then.

It is on a piece of paper no bigger than an index card. The paper is fragile, and has yellowed over the years. I am doing my best not to tare it.

I was thinking about my grandmother (who I affectionately call "Mama") and the letters she sent for seven years of my graduate school chaos.

Those short letters came once a month, along with a check for $50.00 (That increased to $65.00 a month "due to inflation", she wrote.)

I liked getting that piece of change. And I made sure to use it for something that I needed, not just blow it!

But those letters!

I LOVED her letters. They were simple, a bright spot in my dark life. They didn't speak of much, sometimes what she ate for breakfast or her angst of cleaning up the "Back room". (Man, she been cleaning up that back room for the past 30 years!)

Those letters.
I looked forward to the letters MORE than the cash.

I remember when I'd graduated and got a job, she said "Uh, is it okay to stop sending you money?"

I said yes. I wanted to say "But could you keep sending the letters?"
But I only said "Yes, Mama."

Earlier this year, I was thinking that I wished I would've saved those letters. I always kept one or two in my wallet, but when the wallet went, so did those. Over the years I've thrown them out.

Me and my hard headedness... taking stuff like that and tossing it.

But I happen to find this one.

And I plan on guarding it with my life, treating it like the rare treasure it is...

These days, some 13 years later, I am able to help her. No I don't send her a check. We in the new age now-- I gave her a debit card. My aunt told me that, due to gas prices and food prices, she is really careful about where she goes and what she buys. So, I decided to help her. I gave her that debit card, and helped her understand pin numbers, etc... She was perplexed, but she's a smart lady- I was confident she could figure it out.

"Mama, this is for your gas and grocery. Get whatever you need, and stop picking and choosing."

She said okay, but she's acting a jack. I look at the online banking for that card, and see that she won't fill up her gas tank. I spoke to her about that. She uses my card as supplementary or something weird.

"Little girl [that's what she calls me], Miss Mary give me 10 dollars to take her somewhere, and then I get my money for selling the Avon, and I use some of that, and Blah, blah, blah..."

Somebody open the window so I can throw myself out.

There's no use in arguing with her. (I've tried that, lol). I let her do what she wants to do.

I do want to ask her a question though...

Grandma, can you write me letters like you use to do so long ago?