In an old cardboard box there are letters
On paper thatís tattered and worn,
That were written by folks in my family
Some, long, long before I was born.
There are love letters written by mama
To my father, before they were wed
When neither of them were yet twenty,
With a fifty year marriage ahead.
And one ragged letter we children
Wrote our parents, while they were away
In their plane, on a Florida vacation.
We all signed our names, on that day.
But the one I like most is from Grandma to Mom
As she, once again, held the fort.
It describes to her how I was down on the floor
With the pets that I loved, holding court.
And she wrote of my brothers, how George was so helpful
And John wouldnít follow the rules.
And I smiled at the way that some things havenít changed
Since those days we were all kids in school.
In the sixty three years since that letter was penned,
George has always been helpful and kind,
And Iím still surrounded by four legged friends,
And to rules John has never paid mind.
And the letter reminds me how grandma
Was the rock, to which everyone clung.
How our grandparents both were there for us all
Which we took for granted, when young.
Now, as I hold her letter, I miss her so much
For both she and my grandpa are gone,
As are both of our parents, for many long years,
While this tattered old letter stays on.
I wish I could tell her what she meant to me
And I think of the good times we shared
And how each of our childhoods were greatly enriched
By the way that our grandparents cared.
Then I put the old letter away, in its box,
With its faded, round script, so like mine.
It was almost like having a visit with her.
Then I think of these new, modern times
When our mail is all sent electronically.
Itís convenient, but what will it leave
To someone, someday, who might miss us,
And not have an old letter to read?
Copyright March, 2004, Betty Cessna
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