For my fan

Dear grandma,

I write this post to you knowing full well that it will arrive in your mailbox a few weeks from now. Your daughter, a.k.a. my mom, will have literally cut and pasted it onto sheets of paper and sent it via snail mail (that's the kind with a stamp on it) across state lines. Why? In order to appease my fan.

Yes, grandma, this is a great big thank-you for your encouragement. You sent me a handwritten note recently. May I quote it for all to see? I thought so.

"I wish my mother could read your writings. She would be even more thrilled than I, or (your mother) or (your father.)"

Here's my favorite:

"The little incidents are better than those I read in the Reno paper!!" (original emphasis.)

I'm glad to know that there are people out there ::sniff:: whose days are brightened by what I have to say.

But here's a little secret for you, grandma. You, who supported your pilot husband during World War II, and afterward, through polio and 43 years of teaching. You, who raised two children. You, who celebrated so many of my birthdays and Christmases with me that I cannot count. You, who attended my high school basketball games and my wedding. You're still alive and kicking and still use my favorite adjective: peachy.

You may be my fan, but I am most definitely yours.