At the age of 12, my grandfather who meant the world to me, was dying of cancer and nothing could be done for him. I remember praying to God and asking him to spare my grandpa and that I would be good forever, everything a child does when they don’t really understand. My grandpa was 76 and he was experiencing a great deal of pain and suffering. Walking by his bedroom, peeking through the barely opened door I can remember just wanting to jump up on the bed to be near him. He died when I was not there and I never saw him again. At the time, as my mom explains to me recently, the belief was funeral services were no place for children. Not being able to say good-bye to him and thank him for all of the wonderful and cherished moments together has always weighed on my heart.

Though this letter cannot be put in a card and mailed, writing to someone who is no longer physically with us, is helpful. As I’ve come to understand, a transition needs to take place in finding a sense of peace in loss and grief.

To encourage you to write to someone who is no longer with you, I share my letter.

Dear Grandpa,

You were the most important man in my life, next to my dad.    Your special efforts for your grandkids did not go unnoticed.    My favorite memories are of the times we’d sit on the bench in front of the store and eat our just purchased animal crackers.  Sitting there watching and listening to you as you spoke to all those who passed by our bench, you were kind to everyone.    Even to this day when I see animal crackers, those memories come flooding back, though I think you would be shocked at how much animal crackers cost now a days.  Hanging out in your workshop in the garage and working on building things together, from the swing set in the orchard, to the wooden blocks to entertain us.  From letting us go into the chicken house and get the morning eggs and later watching you prepare the smoke house for the fresh fish catch of the day or how you kept bees before it was even fashionable.  Your talent at fly fishing and teaching us how to tie the flies and watching you cast and release in the Rogue River.  As a pilot in the first world war, you spoke very little of those times, but I loved hearing the tales of flying for Chevron Oil. Your ability to let us work along side of you and learn things, taught me how to love the earth and nature. Many memories for someone so young.  Our time together was brief, yet you have provided me with a lifetime of wonderful memories.  I miss you often and when I have the chance to come to Oregon and visit your resting place, I find myself dusting off your and grandma’s area and not quite sure what to say.  As I believe you are in heaven and hopefully teaching those around you how to fly fish and snacking on animal crackers.

With love,

Your granddaughter