05/18/2021 – Dear Mom,

Despite my proclivity for writing (and a whole ass communication degree), I still find myself struggling with what to write to you. Hallmark birthday cards just don’t cut it sometimes (although thank you cards get pretty close). I don’t always know what to say to you because there’s so much shit that’s hard to talk about. We like to keep stuff in. We like to cry in secret. We like to fix our makeup and make jokes 10 minutes later like it never even happened. I get that from you.

Despite the lack of biological relation, I get a lot of stuff from you.

• A love of chocolate
• A dry, sarcastic sense of humor that results in laughter at inappropriate times
• A desire to work hard and do good for myself and my loved ones
• An attention to detail and a consideration for who people are as opposed to who you wish they were
• An understanding that you cannot save people, only love them

• And finally, an indifference to flowers as gifts

Of course it the thought that counts, but we both adamantly agree that flowers are more often than not, a responsibility and more thing to take up space and take care of.

The only exception were flowers from grandma, ones she grew and plucked for you and sent you home with and every time you glanced at them, you thought of her. Grandma was always so good at appreciating the little things. We get that from her.

In this frame are flowers that Grandma and I picked and then pressed into old books that honestly might have been yours at one point. I thought this would be a good way to preserve and display them, because as much as the world stopped this year, in the ways that really mattered, it didn’t. And as it continues as it always does, I hope you think of her and think of me and I hope you’re proud of the ways I am like you because I am grateful for all of them.

Love,

Grace