Initially, I wanted this song to be about all the quirky, funny things about and memories of my grandma that we all reminisced about during our family reunion last July. As I was writing down all of my memories of her – the raspberry bushes, the sour cream container stash, the toilet paper hording, the scary basement, the creepy antique doll and buggy in the front covered porch, the candy in her purse, the constant need for taking a picture just when everyone needed to leave (and then not remember exactly how her camera worked), the Kmart blue light specials, the Albertsons-fault-for-their-heavy-cream-not-whipping-up-at-Thanksgiving, the chicken frozen TV dinners when I came to visit, the pulley driven light about the small guest bed, the unexpected Johnny Carson fanatic – I realized something very important. This woman more than LOVED her family. But she was extremely lonely. She likely did most of these things to keep people around her for as long as possible – the sharing and picking of her raspberries, the emergency preparation, the special holiday meals, the images, the shopping, the toys. I realized something very important with my relationship to her. You see, she and I ultimately share a huge similarity. I then realized that she lost her husband when she was about 40, and was left a single mother, just like I was. At that point of realization, I dug deeper into our shared lives. The main difference is that she was left with 4 boys to raise and had no intention of dating or ever re-marrying. I have one son and a late husband that had the foresight and gift to give me “permission to date” just 10 days before he passed.

Growing up, she always put us on guilt trips that she was so lonely and that “nobody ever visits me”. I remember asking her about going and meeting people at the senior center and seeing what activities there are. She immediately responds with, “I’ll NEVER go there. All they are doing is looking for a HUSBAND!” (literally said in that tone!) So, the remaining 56 years of her life were alone, the last 10 of those years being ridden with the ultimate of lonely health conditions - dementia. She had grandkids around until they became adults and 1 son and daughter in law that remained in the same town as she. And, she had her reliable Sunday gathering at church. Other than that, it was letters that were shared with far away family, an occasional family summer camping trip, irregular visits from family, and not often collect calls that we made to her since long distance calls were too expensive.

At our family reunion this last summer, my aunt, the keeper of her things, brought many belongings of hers to share with the family. One such belonging was a huge box of letters, mostly correspondences of my grandmother and her mother. There was some juicy gossip in there about the extended family. As I read on, I was hoping desperately that my name wasn’t mentioned!

When all is said and done, Letters From You is a story about my grandma. A long life lived. A deep love of family. A desperate need for companionship. A sadness when short term memory is gone. A certain guilt of the should haves. Not only is it the first pop song I’ve ever written, but it is also one that I share with an incredible former student of mine from 18 years ago, Mario Jose, singing beautifully on background vocals.