A Letter to my Grandmother

A Story by Rachael

This is a letter I wrote to my grandmother when she died. I read this at the memorial service.

Grandma,

When I went to visit you in the funeral home, I noticed something different… you had makeup on. And the first thing I thought was “that’s not my grandmother”.

Dad said you never wore that much makeup in your life, and anyone who knew you as long as he did would know why. You never needed it. Certainly not when you were younger, according to the pictures and stories; you were beautiful. By the time I knew you, that hadn’t changed. Sure, you grew old, but your beauty was as apparent as it was fifty years ago. Everything about you was beautiful. Your smile, your charming laugh that chimed like a little bell, and the way you would wink at me when you told stories of high school and teenage boys and young love. And I never once heard you raise your voice.

There was no one in your life who didn’t adore you. It was hard not to, the way you told stories in perfect detail, your soft, honey-sweet voice, inviting and relaxing. The most beautiful thing about you was your stories. All the stories of being young, being courted by so many young, handsome boys, the adventures you had, the freedoms. Your storytelling abilities preserved after so many years, it was thrilling to listen to you, no matter the tale.

You said I reminded you of you in your younger years. I can’t imagine anyone ever being as sweet, gentle, and beautiful as you. I hope I have inherited some of your better qualities. I don’t doubt there are many people in this world that would want to be as charming, wonderful, and loved as you were. In the same way that you never needed makeup on your face, you never needed to be anything but your own charming self, because we love you just how you were.

Love, now and always,

Rachael