When my girls were very young, they would write letters to Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and even to the tooth fairy. As a good mama, I found myself writing a lot of letters at 2am. And unfortunately, my youngest daughter, Shannan, never missed a chance to ask a dozen questions in her letters. She loved writing letters, but mostly, she loved getting letters.
So, when Shannan was a little older and went off to Girl Scout camp, letters were a must. Along with my motherly love notes, I made sure she received a letter from her favorite family member: her beloved cat. Not beloved to me, mind you, to her.
Rosemary joined our family as a throwaway: a lost, forlorn, yet already spaded feline. And, she was a huge, furry, calico heartthrob to my little Shannan. I constantly teased my girls about how cats were self-satisfying, conceited animals incapable of real affection for humans. But, Shannan insisted Rosemary wasn’t aloof. She was finicky. She wasn’t feisty. She was defensive. She wasn’t mine. She was Shannan’s.
Yes, if Shannan was off at camp, eating and bunking with other scouts, it was only fitting that Rosemary send her a letter, complete with muddy paw prints and a self portrait scribbled in pencil. And, it went something like this.
Nobody here likes me … like you do.
Mom pretends she does. She feeds me and pets me.
She finally listened to you and wormed me. Now, I feel better.
Who finally wormed you? I hear it is helping. I am glad.
But, about me:
Mom still doesn’t let me on her swing. Only you do.
I miss you so much.
I wish everyone here was as sweet as you.
You are the only person in the whole-wide-world that loves me
and understands me and knows how important I am.
I hope you like this picture of me. I think I look beautiful.
I can’t wait until you come home and sit with me,
and pet me, and treat me the way I should be treated.
I know you miss me.
Well, I must go. I feel that I should walk around a little
and let the other animals see how beautiful I am.
Keep taking your wormer. It helps. I promise.
You’ll be home soon, and then you can tell me
just how much you missed me and just how wonderful I am.
Oh, I’m a grandparent. I’m a grandmother to seven. And, I’m so dad-gum-in-love with my grandkids, it’s just pathetic. I used to teach school. I miss it now. Iwonder if there are a lot of us grandparents who love tippy-tapping on the keyboard? I wonder if there are a lot of us old fogeys who write? And … that’s about it. No fantastic, revealing, wondrously, genuinely unique things about me. Just me – a Fappy (fat and happy) Granny! Read more at Curlygrandma’s Blog