| Tammy Christensen |  |
June 20, 2002
Dear Grandma,
Happy birthday! I know I am a couple of weeks early, but I was thinking about you and decided I should write. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. We were certainly lucky kids to have our grandparents living next door to us. We could visit you and grandpa every day. I miss those times.
Do you remember that big garden you used to plant? Grandpa would have a small mountain of manure hauled in each year and it would stink up the whole neighborhood, but you grew great produce. Kathy and Teresa, setting a great example as older sisters, would tell me to steal cherry tomatoes from the garden. You were probably aware of this, weren’t you? Well Jerry, Katie, Adam and I have some neighbors who are avid gardeners like you were. Each spring, when they work smelly bags of manure into their garden soil, I think of you…. Well, you know what I mean.
Katie is in France with her eighth grade class for two and a half weeks. Yes, it’s hard to believe she is that old now. I think she was five years old the last time you saw her. She comes home on July 3rd. We invited all the Oregon family members to a July 5th barbecue to celebrate her return. I wish you could come. I planted a bunch of red, white, and blue flowers in my yard to make the occasion festive. The red petunias remind me of you. Do you remember that planter made of large lava rocks around your huge black walnut tree? I used to help you deadhead those sticky petunias and sprinkle water over them with your galvanized watering can—the one with the faded, red wooden handle. I bought a similar watering can a few years ago. Mine has a gray plastic handle; they don’t make them like yours any more.
Adam will begin 5th grade this year. I remember how at his age I arrived at your house at 7:30 a.m. each day to play Yahtzee for a half-hour before school. You were always so kind to help me decide whether to go for a full house or four of a kind, and to give me extra turns in an attempt to make the score close. Adam and I play board games now.
I’m keeping great care of your hollow glass rolling pin—the one you used to roll out sugar cookie dough. I was always happy to help cut out the cookies, because I got to eat the final product. Yum, your cookies were the best!
Today, I also reflected on the love you and grandpa had for each other. I know his death left you with a void. Even though you both played tricks and teased each other, it was evident your love was deep. I remember walking into your house one day, not knocking as usual, and finding grandpa at the kitchen table. “Where’s grandma?” I asked.
“Oh, she broke her leg and I had to shoot her,” he replied matter-of-factly.
I felt extremely thankful when you walked through the back doorway just a few moments later, because my child’s mind didn’t know whether to believe Grandpa or not. By the way, what does “I’m gunna to sly you up the gop” mean? Grandpa said this phrase when he was pretending I was in trouble. I have always translated it to “I’m going to slay you and throw your body parts in the ditch.” I’m sure that’s not correct! Where did he get this phrase?
Thanks for letting me spend the night at your house so often. I hated sleeping on the hide-away bed with Kay at home. She was very strict about not crossing the invisible line down the middle of the bed. It was difficult to stay on my side when the mattress dipped in the middle. At your house, I didn’t have to worry about mattress “sides.”
Do you remember how I always had a runny nose and coughed all night in the big bedroom across from your room? You’d give me thick, cherry cough medicine so we could all sleep. Oh that stuff was awful, and it didn’t seem to work. I realize now that I have allergies. You’ll be glad to know my condition has improved since I moved into town away from all the grass fields.
I wish you could come and visit my family and me. You would hear that I no longer cough all night. We would stay up late and play Yahtzee and in the morning water and deadhead the petunias. In the afternoons, we could all eat hot buttered toast and drink milk flavored with Nestle’s Quick, just like you and I used to do after school. Would you choose the strawberry or chocolate flavor?
Well Grandma, it’s been wonderful reminiscing. I wish I could really send you this letter. I’ve missed you every day since February 1993. Thanks for loving me.
Your wishful and loving granddaughter,
Tammy