In this example, an older widow shares some memories of her husband with a granddaughter.

My precious Caitlin,

Your mother has told me how sad you have felt since Grandpa passed away in June. I miss him, too. But, as Grandpa used to say, “Nothing lasts forever, not even the good things.” Personally, I think he was only partially correct.

In our 52 years together, there were many, many good things that I’ll carry in my heart until my final breath. Today, I’d like to share a few of those things with you.

Remember that baseball hat you wore every day for one summer until it wore itself out, probably from all that dirt you wouldn’t let your mom wash out of it? That hat was grandpa’s idea.

“If she wants to play with boys, she ought to look like one of them,” he said. In his mind, you had as much of a right to play baseball as Freddy Brock or Jason Salazar. Believe me, not every grandpa felt that way at that time.

When grandpa was a young man, he was the best athlete in town. Why he would be interested in me, I didn’t understand at first. I hated sports. In fact, I hadn’t the foggiest notion of who he was when I first met him, although all my girlfriends positively swooned when he was around. He later told me that it was my ignoring him that he liked. Of course, as I got to know him, I learned that he was more than a football star.

Grandpa was probably the smartest man I ever met. He made the honor roll every semester that I remember, could tear apart a car motor and put it back together in an afternoon and had a real green thumb for gardening, especially flowers. I liked that, especially.

For our first date, he brought flowers he had grown himself. Imagine!

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