To Montana

This is my blog. It is a collection of letters to you, grandson after you and your mommy and daddy left the little cabin where you’d been living next door to me.  You were not yet three when you left in a big truck packed high with toys and furniture, pregnant Mommy and your daddy, my son. We had spent a lot of time together, days when Mommy was sick in bed, many nights too. Since infancy Grandpa and I played, lived with and enjoyed our little buddy. When you left, we missed you. Even though you would not read these letters for many years, if ever, I had much to say. I wasn’t sure you’d ever come back. Grandma

Hi sweetie, I’m thinking about you today. A book on my coffee table suggests when the wind blows that a grandma is blowing kisses. Let’s you and I believe that, okay? I think its really, really windy in Billings Montana, so there will be plenty of kisses for you. And that’s a good thing, because my arms are full of them. I can fling them out to you each day, everyday and be sure that in the Montana wind they will get there. I wonder what the snow does to kisses. Maybe they are just a little more snappy, crisp and noisy. Maybe they have to come with hugs. Yes, that’s it. Winter kisses come wrapped in hugs. So, little buddy, when you feel the wind, that chilly Montana wind, open your arms wide then catch yourself up and wrap your arms around your tummy. Criss-cross your middle, breathe and swoon. Grandma’s sending kisses on the wind, and is hugging you, too. And loving you always.