To My Mom, Via My Unborn Child

I have been thinking a great deal about your grandma lately, who of course, is far, far away. I miss her a lot. Your grandma is an incredibly interesting person and you will come to know this over time. She was very, very young when I was born, 14 years old, and my father was much older. Furthermore, he did not help grandma to raise me. And we were quite poor. She once told me that it was so cold inside of our apartment when I was a baby that icicles formed on the inside of the windows, and she stayed awake nights, with me held close to her wrapped inside of blankets during the winter because she feared that I would freeze. Our neighborhood had considerable crime. I’m sure if she had the choices I have, she would have chosen to raise me somewhere quieter, safer. I love her for not giving up even though we had it pretty rough. It’s because she didn’t that I have the chance to raise you in a far better place than I was raised. She often told me that her peers expected me to grow up and become something far less than I have. They thought I might grow up to be involved in illegal activities or just nothing at all. But grandma was extremely determined to make sure I turned out well, putting all of her young self into my development. As a child, I blossomed very early because of this, starting school before age 3, because grandma told a story to get me into a headstart program. I don’t condone telling stories, but I know that grandma did it because she knew it was the only way that my potential could be brought out. She read to me from the time I was in the crib, and somehow, this led to me being literate at a very young age. She was also very protective and open with me from very young. Her being so young herself had a lot to do with that. Later on, grandma and I would go through some really difficult times, but when I think about her nowadays, these are the things I think about. I am many times more comfortable than she was when she had me, I have your mommy to help me, as well as your aunts, uncles and countless supportive friends, yet I still get nervous about raising you. How must she have felt? Sometimes I think she doesn’t quite believe how remarkable she is. Maybe I should call her to let her know.