An Open Letter to my Grandmother

Note: This post contains an off-color limerick, so if that's not your cup of tea, you might not enjoy this post.

Dear Dede,

Now how can I already be teary-eyed when I'm not even finished with my first sentence? I guess I miss you more than I even realize. I haven't seen you since I was twelve years old, but that doesn't mean you don't live on in our hearts in more ways than you know.

My mom, sister and I have fond memories of you, and we still remember you in our conversations. One of the things we love to talk about is how much you loved a good limerick. After you died, my mom found a book of off-color limericks on your bookshelf with a message inscribed in the front that read:  "This book is the property of Dede, though I'm rather ashamed to admit it!"  

It would probably appall you to know that the limerick that has lived on for three generations now in our family is this lovely gem (and we LOVE you for it!):

There once was a man from Madras,

Whose balls were fashioned of brass.

When they jangled together,

They played "Stormy Weather",

And lightening shot out of his @$$.

There is another sassy quote for which you are also credited that became a personal mantra for me during my single years:

Never chase a man or a train. There's always another one coming.

All I can say, is "Amen" to that!  That is one pearl of wisdom that I'll surely pass on to my daughters!  That quote actually inspired me to write a song, and I wrote it as if you were singing it to me.  :)  

I'm married, by the way, to a wonderful man! I wish you could meet him--you'd love him...you both have very kind natures and bright minds.

There is so much that I would love to share with you if you were still here. I'd love to talk to you about my life as an actress. I'd love to invite you to see my plays. I'd love to hear you talk about Grampy and stories of your life together. I'd love to hear you call me "Dear" in your Bostonian accent again. I'd love to kiss your soft cheeks again. I'd love to play Scrabble together. I'd love to share this blog with you. I love words, and I know you did, too.

I love you so much, Dede, and I just wish we could have known each other longer. We always got along, but I would have loved to continue our relationship into my adult life. Thankfully, you raised a great daughter, and I think she is one of those special people who got the very best of both her parents. She is a great mother to me, and nothing thrills me more than when she tells me that she sees bits of you in me. I am proud to bear your legacy.

I love you,

Starshine