A Belated Remembrance
Hi, Mom,
I’m a few months behind in writing to you this year. I wish I could say I had an excuse, but really, in my mind, I don’t. Yes, I was in the process of moving, but only a few miles. Yes, I did it all by myself - all the hauling and cleaning - and I didn’t take time off to do it, but still . . . I’m sorry I’m late. I can hear your voice saying it’s okay and you understand and such, but I’m still very sorry.
I won’t deny that part of me is relieved that you’re not here with us, that you are up there, just because of the COVID-19 virus that’s happening. Though all of us (Dad, Brother C & family and I) are okay, we’d all be worried about and for you getting this virus. Dad’s stroke earlier this year was hard enough, even though he is recovered and still being the dad I know, complete with his ‘logical arguments’ and his insistence that his ‘sweetness’ rubbed off on you instead of the other way around. I’m sure you’re happy to know he’s still active, that he did ‘retire’ from the shop and that he has friends that you would be right at home with, especially since the ladies don’t listen to his ‘advice,’ just like you did. Your granddaughters are growing up, too, with E wanting to learn to sew and both of them involved in hockey, a true Minnesota sport.
Yesterday, I learned one of your sisters passed away. Since your passing, I hadn’t seen her or even spoke with her or her husband and my contact with her children, the cousins I grew up with and have many memories of, reduced to the occasional social media post as we all became adults, moved in our own directions and developed our own lives and families, so it was a bit of a shock for me. Still, the memories are there of your sister as one of the ‘Anderson girls,’ with photos of the four of you taken at various gatherings, as Brother C and I played with the gang of cousins we grew up with.
One memory I have of Aunt S still makes me smile. I can’t remember exactly what year it was, but I drove from college in Boston to their place because the family gathering for Christmas was the next day and it just made sense for me to go there, then drive home after the gathering rather than driving back and forth. I arrived earlier than expected, but she still welcomed me in and offered me food (as all Anderson girls did). Because I was there before my cousins, I got to park in third space of their garage, a definite luxury for the Minnesota winter. I backed in and clearly remember her standing by the trunk of my car. I got one foot out of the car and she was telling me to pop the trunk so she could get started on the laundry.
Yes, the trunk of my car did have stuff in it, specifically my clean clothes packed in my suitcases and other stuff that I was bringing home to keep there, but no laundry of any kind. The other times when I came home from college, it was never with dirty laundry, so I was confused by this scene playing out. My answer to Aunt S was that the only laundry I had was the clothes I was wearing and that produced a look of disbelief on her face. I even opened the trunk just to show her it was packed with everything else, but not laundry before she believed me. (Later, I’d learn about one of my cousins who came home from college with their car, which was smaller than mine, filled with laundry to be washed, which explained it.)
Aunt S will be missed. As a child, she was an aunt to visit with so I could play with my cousins, particularly R. She will be remembered for the smile and happy greetings I always received, the Vikings-Packers rivalry within the family, and those wafer-thin things that looked like snowflakes, topped with powdered sugar, that she would bring to the holiday gatherings. I can’t remember what they’re called, of course - eating them was more important than learning about them.
I’ve reached out to my cousins as best I can to let them know I’m here and that I’ll help them through this rough time. Though they had more years with their mother than Brother C and I had with you and her passing was far different from yours, it’s still the loss of a mother that they are experiencing, something I am familiar with, even all these years later.
Life will continue, I know. The holidays are approaching, something that I looked forward to as a child, as children do, for the chance to see the relatives and eat foods that get specially made just for getting together. As an adult, I’ve learned to treasure the moments spent with friends and family, as well as the memories I help to create with my nieces. Even so, thoughts of you are never far from my mind. I still miss you.
I love you!
Link to 2019 Letter: https://marauderswolf.livejournal.com/150649.html
I’m a few months behind in writing to you this year. I wish I could say I had an excuse, but really, in my mind, I don’t. Yes, I was in the process of moving, but only a few miles. Yes, I did it all by myself - all the hauling and cleaning - and I didn’t take time off to do it, but still . . . I’m sorry I’m late. I can hear your voice saying it’s okay and you understand and such, but I’m still very sorry.
I won’t deny that part of me is relieved that you’re not here with us, that you are up there, just because of the COVID-19 virus that’s happening. Though all of us (Dad, Brother C & family and I) are okay, we’d all be worried about and for you getting this virus. Dad’s stroke earlier this year was hard enough, even though he is recovered and still being the dad I know, complete with his ‘logical arguments’ and his insistence that his ‘sweetness’ rubbed off on you instead of the other way around. I’m sure you’re happy to know he’s still active, that he did ‘retire’ from the shop and that he has friends that you would be right at home with, especially since the ladies don’t listen to his ‘advice,’ just like you did. Your granddaughters are growing up, too, with E wanting to learn to sew and both of them involved in hockey, a true Minnesota sport.
Yesterday, I learned one of your sisters passed away. Since your passing, I hadn’t seen her or even spoke with her or her husband and my contact with her children, the cousins I grew up with and have many memories of, reduced to the occasional social media post as we all became adults, moved in our own directions and developed our own lives and families, so it was a bit of a shock for me. Still, the memories are there of your sister as one of the ‘Anderson girls,’ with photos of the four of you taken at various gatherings, as Brother C and I played with the gang of cousins we grew up with.
One memory I have of Aunt S still makes me smile. I can’t remember exactly what year it was, but I drove from college in Boston to their place because the family gathering for Christmas was the next day and it just made sense for me to go there, then drive home after the gathering rather than driving back and forth. I arrived earlier than expected, but she still welcomed me in and offered me food (as all Anderson girls did). Because I was there before my cousins, I got to park in third space of their garage, a definite luxury for the Minnesota winter. I backed in and clearly remember her standing by the trunk of my car. I got one foot out of the car and she was telling me to pop the trunk so she could get started on the laundry.
Yes, the trunk of my car did have stuff in it, specifically my clean clothes packed in my suitcases and other stuff that I was bringing home to keep there, but no laundry of any kind. The other times when I came home from college, it was never with dirty laundry, so I was confused by this scene playing out. My answer to Aunt S was that the only laundry I had was the clothes I was wearing and that produced a look of disbelief on her face. I even opened the trunk just to show her it was packed with everything else, but not laundry before she believed me. (Later, I’d learn about one of my cousins who came home from college with their car, which was smaller than mine, filled with laundry to be washed, which explained it.)
Aunt S will be missed. As a child, she was an aunt to visit with so I could play with my cousins, particularly R. She will be remembered for the smile and happy greetings I always received, the Vikings-Packers rivalry within the family, and those wafer-thin things that looked like snowflakes, topped with powdered sugar, that she would bring to the holiday gatherings. I can’t remember what they’re called, of course - eating them was more important than learning about them.
I’ve reached out to my cousins as best I can to let them know I’m here and that I’ll help them through this rough time. Though they had more years with their mother than Brother C and I had with you and her passing was far different from yours, it’s still the loss of a mother that they are experiencing, something I am familiar with, even all these years later.
Life will continue, I know. The holidays are approaching, something that I looked forward to as a child, as children do, for the chance to see the relatives and eat foods that get specially made just for getting together. As an adult, I’ve learned to treasure the moments spent with friends and family, as well as the memories I help to create with my nieces. Even so, thoughts of you are never far from my mind. I still miss you.
I love you!
Link to 2019 Letter: https://marauderswolf.livejournal.com/150649.html