Grandma, I'd Like You To Meet My Wife

Dear Grandma, thank you for watching over me these past thirteen years, for your part in keeping me safe, and for inspiring my continued love for pumpkin pie.

I’m writing today because I want to introduce you to my wife, Jenna. Although I’m sure you’re well aware of her, the two of you have never had the chance to formally meet. She’s my inspiration, my best friend, the mother of your great-granddaughter, and someone who has a lot in common with you.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told Jenna that she would have loved knowing you. I’ve borderline-apologized to her for not meeting her sooner and ensuring that happened. Alas, since we can’t turn back time, I’ll use this letter as a supplement to all the stories I’ve already shared with her.

Some of my absolute favorite childhood memories were made at your house in Olmsted Falls, Ohio, for Thanksgiving, Christmas, or other family outings. Jenna knows this, but sometimes I wish she could experience the warmth and laughter of dinner, the taste of dessert and the unforgettable board games at your dining area’s wooden drop-leaf table.

Your relationship with Grandpa is something I’ll always admire, especially the laughter and light-hearted bickering. I should have asked you more about when you and he met. I know you got married at nineteen years old when he was twenty-nine. Was it his basketball skills or horse-riding ability that first drew you in, haha?!

But seriously, your interactions have stuck with me, and in a way, they led me to Jenna. I saw two people who had been together for more than fifty years, still laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Elsewhere, I’ve seen people get tired or bored with their significant other, living a loveless existence, and I was determined not to let that happen. Now, looking back at Jenna and my early days, she was looking for something similar. Without you as the shining example, Grandma, I might have missed the mark.

I see so much of your personality in Jenna, too. The “tough-but-fair” attitude, not letting people cheat or get away with things, the honesty, and the relentless effort to make sure those around you are enjoying themselves. You may still have an edge in the cookies, though. We’ve never been able to replicate your famous “straight cookies,” although Cousin Shelby made a great effort to bake them for our wedding.

When we played board games, some of the most fun was trying to sneak fake answers past you, Grandma, and you always sniffed them out. As you know, this became a running theme with cousins, aunts and uncles, and hearing your reactions to attempted cheating was even more entertaining than the games themselves! You and Jenna would be “two peas in a pod” with your competitive nature and fun-loving approach to talking trash with a smirk on your face.

To us, your house represented a welcoming, safe, and fun environment. I’ve often recounted to Jenna about Christmas morning, random Sunday visits, and any gatherings where other relatives were also present. These experiences led me to dream of my own home someday turning into a hub for fellowship and activity. I can honestly say that thinking went into locating, purchasing and renovating our current house.

There was something about laying on your carpet, chatting with relatives while an intoxicating smell of food permeated from the kitchen and Uncle Al slept on the couch that exemplified happiness for me. When our daughter was born in November 2020, I felt the same warmth as we welcomed immediate family members at our house to meet the baby and spend time together for the holidays. Whether others simply dropped things off, or hung around to chat, there was the undeniable feeling of community and happiness that I remembered so well. It was almost as if you were there, sitting in a chair, working on a puzzle while the pie baked in the oven, Grandpa reading his newspaper in the next chair.

If you could meet Jenna, I know you’d have so much to say to each other. I’d love to hear you tease her about meeting me, share your competitive streaks with each other, and give parenting dos and don’ts. You had a lot of those to go around after raising five kids, including my Dad. You’d proudly tell her about your garden, give her the 411 on what’s happening in your town, and make her laugh no matter the topic of conversation.

In return, Jenna would ask you great questions about your own life story, she’d use her inquisitive nature to learn about your extended family and your interests. She would light you up with her own flavor of topics, her world view, tips for makeup routines, and self-deprecating stories of both of our cooking experiments.

You left this world in 2008, six years before I met my wife. Yet, the feelings, memories and warmth you created are very much alive. We are actively creating that kind of life for our family, and I can never thank you enough. Your impression on me has spread into our own family values.

Please consider this your formal introduction to my wife, Jenna, although I know you’ve seen her from your Heavenly perch, and we’ll both see you again someday.