She was my best friend, confidant, pen pal, book buddy, and one of the funniest women I have ever known. The insight she provided and the lessons she taught were invaluable. Through actions she showed me that it’s important to see the humor in everything that you can, and that you never get too old for silly giggling and out of control, out of breath, laughter. We exchanged hand written letters all of my teenage life. I could tell her anything with no fear of reprisals or break of trust. There was a connection between the two of us that has never been duplicated or matched.
Now I share emails with her daughter, my Aunt. We have a connection of our own; the greatest being, the immeasurable love we share for her mother, my grandmother. A week ago I emailed how much my grandmother had been on my mind; and this was her reply: “My Christmas wish, if I could have anything in the world, would be for you and I to have one more day to spend with Mama and tell her all the things that have happened and get a chance to let her know the impact she has had on our lives. I'm glad to know she lives in your heart as she does in mine.”
Those words have ricocheted around in my head for a couple of days now. What any of us would do to just have that one more chance, one more conversation with a loved one who is gone. If I could have that one wish granted, she would hear all about her great-grandsons; the oldest who is a college graduate, and an accomplished, published writer; and the youngest who has just begun his college career, is full of fun and crazy antics; hunts deer, wild hogs and gigs for bull frogs.
She would hear about the love of my life, how happy he has made me, and how well he has pulled us all together as one complete family with mine and his own combined. And she would know all the things that I have tried to hand down to my own. Her love of books and the written word, her kind and compassionate heart, her gentle hands and deep understanding; and her infinite love for us all.
From the second I lifted her from the red topped box; the memories flowed. My beautiful Crystal Angel is 29 years old this year, a gift from my Grandmother all those years ago; and she shines so brightly on my Christmas tree every single year.
Realistically, I hope that the most beautiful Angel of all has had a front row cloud and has already seen all of those things herself, and knows how much she is missed. To my MaMa Eloise; my mind is constantly rewinding memories and my heart is always full of love for you; still. And to all who have their own special Angels, I wish you a very Merry Christmas.