A Love Letter to Liza
August 2018
On one of our anniversary celebrations I wrote you a love letter, a checklist really, in which I gathered as many things I could think of that I love about you; and the most amazing thing happened. When I counted them up, there were thirty-nine of them, thirty-nine things I love about you; and coincidentally it was our Thirty-Ninth anniversary.
It pleases me occasionally to re-read some of these love letters to you, chronicling our affections in prose and poetry for over 50 years, since you were living in Paris the year before we married. They remind me just how great you are, with titles like The Rose, The Swan, The Sapphire, Noble Girl, You’re a Gem, Red Letter Gramma, She’s Such a Girl Scout and My Most Important Girl. What strikes me is that this list of wonderful gifts, attributes, talents, traits, and those things you do, has grown way beyond thirty-nine.
Which brings us to a recent visit to the home of our daughter and son-in-law and our ridiculously cute grandsons. I was listening to your conversation with Clark, as the two of you were parked, facing each other at either end of the sofa. He announced a crisis! The television was melting, and he needed help, and you should call the Fire Department.
He picked up a plastic telephone from a toy set, held it upside his face, and gave to you a telephone receiver that was strangely in the shape of a 16-ounce water bottle; and you held the empty Aquafina upside your own head, spoke to him and asked why the two of you should call the firefighters.
“Because we need some tape, Gramma,” he cried.
It was not clear what kind of tape was required – cellophane, masking, electrical, painter’s blue, duct, clear-packaging or bright yellow caution – or what value some kind of tape would have in stopping the TV from melting.
But no matter, because it also became clear from your continued phone conversation that the fire department was out of tape. Then I heard the two of you conspire to call the Police Department.
Why the Police Department? Why the Fire Department? Why the tape?
Why not? It was a wild and wonderful rabbit trail, a silly adventure that featured the meanderings of the imagination of a three-and-a-half-year-old.
And Liza? You joined, you signed up, you were all in, you took your own delight in playing the game of make-believe with a little boy who always looks for a friend, and has most assuredly found one. It was a thing of absolute beauty, Liza; but there was more.
Moments later you were thoroughly engaged with Clark’s little brother, Calvin, talking to him not in baby talk, but ruffling him, nuzzling him, capturing his attention and bringing that smile and the sounds of pure joy to that moment, and to his life. Oh, how those little boys love you and your upholstery!
Yes, my love, I have long lost count of all the things I love about you, because you keep growing and getting better in so many ways. I am truly grateful that you keep the hits coming. This newest thing I love about you is one of the best of all time and could only have occurred after all these years of our time together.
You do know what I love about you, right? Practically everything! But today what I love about you is that you can enthusiastically talk to a water bottle.
Why not?
You do Gramma Magic!
Happy Anniversary. Love you. Love, me.
Tidings from Tim 