Dear Lover,
I had a grandmother.
My father's mother.
Who taught me how to pray.
And make clouds disappear.
Who gave me garage sale Christmas gifts.
Who loved the beach.
And taught me how to fish.
How to ignore the slime and slip that hook out carefully.
How to enjoy the silence while your feet dangled beneath the dock.
Who loved high heels.
And bright lipstick.
And left me her Moroccan earrings.
And her writing desk.
Because she knew.
Love,
Me.
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