A LOVE LETTER TO GRANDMA
By Lisa L. Coffey
This letter you are about to read is about a young woman learning to deal with a life and death through her grandmother.
This letter was written by the granddaughter to her grandmother and the feelings and emotions came from the heart.
I know because I know these people.
The grandmother was my grandmother and this is my letter I wrote to her five months
before she died on March 16, 1989.
Dear Grandma,
When I was a teenager and learned about the cancer that invaded your body I believed it would go away. Like a cold.
It did - for a while.
The cancer that invaded is now racing around inside you and creating havoc with your health. The very health that should be yours forever.
So I thought.
I imagined you outliving me, but I am strong with health and youth; while you slowly slip away each day.
This last year I watched your life steadily fade away, but I denied it was happening.
Not my Grandma, I would convince myself. She is too good and dear to me.
This cancer inside you - I don’t know what kind it is for I pretend it does not exist - mercilessly eats at your strengths, but you smile past the pain. Is it because you have something stronger than the medications?
As I see you climb over one setback after another I think, this time she will get well. Again and again I say this, hoping that this time will be the final time, but it goes on and on.
Autumn is here, but your Autumn is rapidly disappearing into the bitter snows of winter.
I finally realized it this week as the leaves were falling from the trees. This revelation came from the mouth of a child. His words haunt me still as I am writing this letter. At those words something deep inside me ripped. It was an agonizing, tearing feeling that was so painful I could not breath.
It was my heart being torn from its safe and innocent anchor.
I am a grown woman and not a child anymore so death should not be scary. Yet, I am not afraid to die - I just do not want to feel the pain created by your death.
I remember this last year with you. The sudden entrances to the hospital; the drugs and the loss of strengths; and the determination to walk alone and become independent once again. Yet, everytime you reach a certain point the cancer retaliates and you must start all over again.
Such frustration you must feel at each point, but your anger and pride does not give up.
Why? What motivates you?
You and I are Christians, but faith alone did not cure you. Maybe your determination is for who you will become and not for what you have been.
I want to kiss you and hold you, I want to feel your warm and living body; but I hesitate.
Why?
I really don’t know why. It is possible that staying away from you would make it less real. Maybe you will live to ninety instead of sixty-five.
Grandma - I do not want to lose you. I would gladly trade my health for your cancer, but it is not to be. I want to hold you and tell you that I love you without it feeling phony or uncomfortable, but I can not.
I put the words meant for you on paper. I place those words in front of you with a letter. Will you understand the reason I am doing it this way? You already know I love you, but I never remind you that I do.
I love you, Grandma, and whatever journey you may take I will warmly say my good-byes. Perhaps I may gain some of your spiritual strength that the cancer will never take away.
Your loving granddaughter, Lisa
