Grandpa was born on December 8, 1904 - almost a Christmas baby. You were born in the late fall, on October 28, 1907. If you and Grandpa had lived you would celebrate your 83rd anniversary this year. You would be 101 and Grandpa would be 104. Over a century old. You would be amazed at the changes a century has brought.

I have a picture of you and Grandpa Fred Edwin Hunter. I framed it years ago and look at whenever I need to see your face. It is my favorite of the few I have of you. The picture was taken on your wedding day, June 20, 1926. He was 21, and you were only 19 when you wed.

Though it’s faded with the passing of time, the picture is still clear. You are standing beside your sweetheart in your simple wedding dress. You were lovely, and he was handsome. You had each other, and you were in love.

I think I know why I need you now. Life has thrown some curve balls, and I am facing with my mom some of the struggles you faced so many years ago when your own health took a downturn. Dad and Mom have both had their battles with cancer. Tomorrow my mom has tests to see about her heart and we don’t know what the outcome will be. How did you do it? How did you face an uncertain future with such courage? I guess I need to know who this mother was that left my father so soon, yet impacted his life so profoundly.

Your eldest son Jim was 7 years and 7 months old, and my dad, Paul, was 4 years and 8 months old when you died. They were just little boys. Dad remembers the last time he saw you. You were in the back of an ambulance waving goodbye. You were being taken to St. Luke’s hospital suffering with heart problems of one kind or another. Did you know how sick you were? Did you know in your mother-heart that it would be the last time you saw Fred, Jim and Paul? You died early in the spring of 1937, on April the 4^th at 29 years of age, just 6 months shy of your 30th birthday. Your death came 2 months and 16 days short of granddad\'s 31^st birthday.

Even though he was very young, my dad has a memory of your funeral. Not long ago he, my mom and I took a trip down memory lane, ending in front of the Baptist church where your funeral was held in Byers, Colorado. Dad recalled for us how difficult that day was. He remembers sitting on the front pew feeling very sad. At some point he turned and glanced at the woman behind him. She smiled and for years dad was angry at her for having the audacity to show happiness at your funeral. It wasn\'t until many years later that he realized she smiled because she was being kind. It wasn\'t an "I\'m happy" smile - it was a "Honey, my heart is breaking for you, what will you do without a mother?" smile.

Grandpa Fred became a newly widowed father of two young sons. Not only was he grieving, but he was faced with yet another economic depression this time without you at his side. He must have felt so overwhelmed, afraid and alone.

According to history, the United States experienced four economic depressions during your brief lifetime: 1907-08, 1920-21, 1929-33, and 1937-38. You were just a baby during the first. A young teen of 13 and 14 during the second. You were a young momma during the third depression having given birth to your firstborn son, Jim and then to my father, Paul. Did you lie awake at night wondering if you would survive? How you were going to feed your babies? If they had a tomorrow to look forward to?

I\'ve read some of your writings and can\'t help but wonder if facing difficult days was key to your strong faith in God. Thankfully, you had four short years before the third and fourth depression when the country was once again thrown into the throes of economic instability. The final depression occurred in 1937. Had it already begun by the time you left home? If so, that must have added to your anguish when you left for the hospital that day. You lived through the worst of the great depression, only to die of heart problems. Sometimes life doesn\'t seem fair.

How I wish you lived today. The wonders of modern medicine could have healed your broken body, I know it could have. It’s amazing what they can do with medication and surgery these days.

You lived such a short life. Did you ever wonder if you would leave a mark on your world? You did, you know. I know (again from your writings) that you were a sensitive soul, that you felt things deeply. I guess I\'m cut from your mold.

Thank you for the legacy you handed down to our family, to me. I know so little, but I know that you loved your God, you loved your children, and you loved to write. Me too, me too, me too.

You would be proud of your son, my dad. Hebrews 12:1 talks about witnesses, “Therefore, since we have so great a could of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumberance, and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith . . .“ I don’t know why, but it makes me wonder if you are in the crowd, cheering him on. Surely, the Father has told you all about your tiny son who became a giant of a man.

I don’t know a lot about heaven, certainly not as much as you now know. I’m hoping God will tell you all the things I’m writing here. Heaven’s getting sweeter all the time as my investment there grows. Did you know that you have two great-grandbabies there? I bet you do and that they know you and Granddad as well. That gives me comfort.

You’d like for my dad to be with you wouldn’t you? You\'d like to finally meet the woman who has faithfully loved him these many years, huh? One day, but not just yet Grandma Nellie. I really need them for awhile longer.

From the picture, I can see that you were a slight woman, but I bet you could give a great hug.

I need one today.

Love,

Ronda