Dear Memere Guerrette,
I am the daughter of your third-born son. He, along with my mother, raised me to be the person I am today. I would describe myself, however I’ve been told that I’m just like you; stubborn but determined. There is so much that I want to say to you, but I think two words can sum it up: thank you.
Thank you for raising my father the way you had, because he has raised me the same way. Throughout my life, my father saw challenges and hard work as a series of important lessons. From my father have I learned how to plant, care for livestock, split wood and even know all ’70s rock greatest hits. He has helped me learn wrong from right, and how to keep going when I don’t think I’m strong enough to. Although people say I act just like you, I think it is my father that I act more like. He never quits, unless we discuss the many little projects he started and forgot about lying in a graveyard of wooden pallets and sawdust.
When I was little, I always saw my dad as an unstoppable force; I still do. It seemed like there was absolutely nothing he could not do. Plumbing broke down, my father fixed it. I fell down and scraped my knee, my father fixed it. Living on low wages and struggling through lay-offs, my father fixed it. At some point in my life, I remember my father working three jobs at once just to make ends meet. All he cared about was keeping his family afloat, but that was really all he needed.
I remember going to the town store where all the old farmers would go to gossip in the morning, and my father would buy me a soda of my choice; I always went for orange. Although my father knew that “there is water at home,” and that “we can’t afford that,” he got it for me anyway and I never fully understood why. I even remember the days when he used to drive a potato chip truck and I got to spend all day with him in the passenger’s seat munching away on a bag of chips.
My little sister never got to do the same things I had. She was born with Down syndrome, along with a hole in one of her heart valves. As an infant, we cradled her in our arms to protect her from harm's way. She wasn’t taught the same things I was, but she does know how to love greater than anyone I’ve ever met. My little sister and I, although raised under different circumstances and obstacles, were able to receive the same lessons through the work of our parents. However, there is one thing we both have learned together in the same way, and that is every single lyric to the song “You Shook Me All Night Long,” which our mother wasn’t entirely happy about, but our dad found funny.
Memere, you taught my father so many lessons. Lessons that I know my father in time will pass all down to me, and I will cherish each and every one. As a mother, I would assume that this would have been your intention from the start, however I want you to know that you’re still teaching him even if you’re not around. He spends every second with his loved ones like it’s his last. He doesn’t take anything for granted, and understands that you need to take time to enjoy life, instead of spending the majority of your time working, or whining about working. He laughs hard and loudly (which is something I got from him), and thrives off of making others laugh just as loudly as he does.
And lastly, thank you, Memere, for showing your son how to be the greatest cook around!
Love, Your Granddaughter
P.S. The thought of my father’s BBQ is mouth watering. I hope you can smell it from where you are.
