Dear Grandma

Dear Grandma,
I can’t believe you are gone. I don’t know if you even realized how much of an influence you had over me, over all of us. There are so many things I want you to know before you really go. Though I no longer am sure that I believe in the thing called heaven, I also don’t necessarily believe that you are gone forever and that this is the end of Dorothy Jean Martin Moe. I hope you are somewhere watching me type this, knowing I’m thinking only of you at this very moment but I know that, even if you aren’t in heaven with Grandpa and your parents, your influence lives in all of us.

The memories you provided me were mostly childhood ones. When I think of being a child, I always think of you and spending precious time with you. The memories are so obscure but so particular only to me that I can’t stop holding on to them right now. I’ve thought of the feel of the sheets on the bed you used to tuck me into at night, the Dove soap and Dixie cups in your bathroom, the beaters full of chocolate chip cookie dough, the doll house we played with, the village on your mantel at Christmas, the holiday meals with ALL the formality of girls in dresses and linen, china and crystal. These memories are all of tangible, physical “things” but your tender voice and specific laughter are in the background. I can’t even describe your laugh or your voice but it is ingrained in me forever.

I remember the moment I told you I was dating a Mormon boy in high school. We were standing in a food line at a wedding and you told me to stay with that boy because he would be nice to me. You were probably the only one in the family who was outwardly proud that I became a Mormon. You were also probably the only one who was so disappointed in me when I left Mormonism and my husband. I really hope you know that this was the only thing I could do to make myself whole, and that you were part of my inspiration to grab onto my life and do whatever it would take so that, on my own death bed, I could say what you did, “I had a good life”.

Grandma, I will never forget that you bought me my first pair of Jordache jeans, that you always made sure you had Golden Grahams and smokey links in the house when I came over…even in pretty recent years. I’ll never forget that, when my sister was born, you were the one to tell me the news. I’ll never forget the standards you wanted for our family and to close my mouth when I eat Doritos. You were the rock of our family, the matriarch of all of us Moes. I’m not sure how we’ll go on without you, but we will. We’ll all have years of life still to live, if we’re lucky. We’ll have laughter, joy, beauty, other sorrows. We’ll have more deaths and, likely, births. In every single one of these moments, you will be with us. You will always be part of who we are as human beings, as a family.

I love you so much, Grandma. You will live in all of us forever.

Your Granddaughter,
Heather

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