Merry Christmas! I wanted to write you a real letter this year, one you can hold onto and tuck away somewhere safe, because there are some things I want you to know.
Thank you for the ornaments. You carved one for every grandkid this year, and I keep thinking about all those hours in your workshop, your patient hands turning a plain piece of wood into something that belongs to just one of us. When I hang mine on the tree, I'll know it carries a little piece of you. That is exactly what makes it so special. You didn't just make decorations. You made sure each of us knows we were thought of, one by one.
That's who you are, Grandpa. You're patient in a way that makes everyone around you feel like there's no need to rush. You're silly in the best way, and I'm sorry to say that your terrible puns have officially become part of me. I catch myself groaning at them and then repeating them to other people. I think that's how you planned it all along.
You're also always the first one up. I love picturing the quiet house in the early morning, with you already awake and the light just starting to come in. It makes me feel that the whole family is being looked after before we even open our eyes.
And the gingerbread house contest on Christmas Eve is one of my favorite things in the whole world. The frosting everywhere, the candy that somehow never makes it onto the roof, the laughing, and you right in the middle of it, building away like it's the most important job there is. Maybe it is. Those are the evenings that make a home feel like a warm blanket.
I am so proud to be your grandchild. I love how kind you are, how funny you are, and how much care you put into everything you make and everyone you love.
Wherever I am and whatever happens, you'll always have my love, Grandpa. It is yours, completely, always.
