BJ and I stopped at the (evil) post office on the way home from a shopping excursion at Costco yesterday. He came out with a stack of mail and handed it to me to sort in the car. I stopped sorting once I saw an envelope addressed from my grandmother.

I eagerly opened the envelope and found three items; two cards and a little hug certificate. I was so excited to see what my grandmother's handwriting looked like, even though I know it isn't her normal handwriting. She's still recovering from a shoulder injury and it's difficult for her to write, making the letter even more precious to me.

"My dear granddaughter... " Sigh...

It's amazing how three little words can bring such emotion out in me, but it did. She went on to write lovely things that meant a lot to me, and shared tidbits about her week; just like I'd always imagined a grandmother would do. I had no idea how much I've missed having a grandmother, but apparently I have. Or maybe I've missed having THIS grandmother.

I've always wondered about her, just as I've wondered about my father. I'm so thrilled that I have the opportunity to find out what she's like. I may or may not get a good feel for what my father was like but for some reason, it's not nearly as important to me as I thought it would be. What I've found to be truly important is the here and now and getting to know the people he gifted to me because he was my father.

I called my grandmother yesterday. As with the last time I called her, our conversation flowed effortlessly. It's funny, neither of us make much of an effort to catch up on the last 45 years. We just catch up on what has happened since the last time we communicated. It's as if the lost years don't really matter. Honestly? They don't.

All of this is happening as it is supposed to happen. I truly believe that I wasn't meant to have this reunion before now. My life seems to be wrapping up in a nice big bow lately, with everything coming together better than I could have ever imagined. I believe that my self-work of five years ago is paying off in leaps and bounds, just as I intended. That self-work prepared me to be in a place where I could gracefully accept my blessings and look forward to continued enjoyment of those blessings, rather than wonder when it's going to end or when it will all be taken away.

I don't worry about losing everything anymore. I feel safe.

My grandmother has mentioned more than once how proud she is that I consider her my grandmother. I know how she feels. I'm thrilled that she calls me her granddaughter. And she loves me, as I love her. Logic would tell me that we're virtual strangers, but my heart tells me something vastly different. She is my family.

My dear granddaughter.... three beautiful words that will ring in my head for a very long time.