I only knew one of them well, but they all have family and friends that loved them dearly and miss them.
I was looking for a document, and I ran across a letter I wrote to my father's mother soon after I moved to Dallas. She had dementia and didn't know any of us anymore, but I wrote it anyway. I think I sent it to my dad to pass on the next time he went to visit her. I don't remember if she actually read it. I didn't see her before she died on my sister's birthday in 2015.
Even with how I felt about her, it hurt, and in light of these ladies, the pain came back, a little less intense than before.
Trusting God for His peace, seeking Him for joy.
Keeping this here to remind me to speak up, even if it's hard, because I might not get another chance.
This is my letter to my grandmother.
Dear Grandma:
I guess even my greeting seems strange to you, considering you don’t remember I exist. Well, I do, and though you don’t know me anymore, I will never forget you
The main reason is because I have your name. My first name is Jayme, named after your son, James. He and his wife Victoria chose to honor you and gave me, their second daughter, your first name as my middle name: Christene. They even spelled it with an “e” instead of an “I” like everyone else. As much as you might doubt my existence, please know I’m not making this up.
Honestly, you and I didn’t get along too well. When I was around 10, you spanked me with a tennis shoe because you thought I was stomping my feet. When I was in junior high, you said mean things to my family. And when I was 14, you almost killed my sister. You didn’t really say a lot of nice things about my mother, and it was painful to stay at your house during the summers of my childhood because I knew you didn’t really like us that much.
This probably isn’t the letter you anticipated, but I don’t think we anticipated this type of relationship. I think my dad wanted you and I to have more in common than just our names, and I honestly believe he wanted my three sisters and I to know what it was like to have a grandmother that loved us.
I’m not writing to be harsh – I’m writing to be real and honest. When the situation happened with my sister, I said some things to you that were disrespectful and rough, especially for a 14 year old. At that moment, I let go of my childhood hope for a grandma that had my back. I even wrote a trilogy of novels, and a character in the third book says to her grandmother everything I wanted to you say to you when I was that age.
Yet, I realized at age 33, none of these sentiments matter anymore. The desire to please you – to even know you and give you a place of honor in my life – distinctly pervaded my thoughts for a long time. I wondered how I could get you to like me and show me grace. I hoped one day you would see my children and choose to love them in a way you didn’t love me. I wanted some kind of redemption, but all I can ask is forgiveness.
The last time I spoke to you, I was out of line. I was rude and disrespectful to you as an adult. I apologize for my behavior. I meant my words, but my delivery was immature. I can’t change it, but I hope I am a better person now because of what I have learned since that time.
Again, you probably don’t remember me, my sisters, or my parents, but I know we’ll never forget you. Our family dynamics were strongly and deeply affected by our interactions with you. You might be wondering why I took so long to address you, especially since you have memory loss now. Honestly, I didn’t know what to write or if I even wanted to talk to you again. Yet, it’s not about me, it’s about you. It’s hoping you can remember a little, at least enough to see both sides of the story and have more peace. It’s about you recognizing how God used you to motivate me, your granddaughter, to seek His forgiveness, your forgiveness, and truth. Thank you for being my grandma – I am who I am because of how you helped shape my character. Also, thank you for my dad – he’s really one of my closest friends and is a great man. Finally, thank you for my name, Christene, which means follower of Christ. I have been a Christian since I was 10, and I am grateful for his grace. I pray that you also have a relationship with him
I currently live in Dallas, Texas, and I don’t have long periods at home, but I think I can visit before the end of the year. I’d like to see you one more time without pain or anger on either side. I will be praying for you.
