Something Sensitive

Don't laugh at me.  I'm going to share something with you that is very dear to my heart.  It is also very sensitive.  I have gone through some long and hard consideration before deciding to share it with you, my faithful reader(s)... but, here it is:

When my Grandma Morris died, this letter was found in her stuff.  It must have meant something to her... it only proves to me that I was a strange child. 

Actually, it means the world to me that she kept it all those years.

Grandma, like my grandpa, was a fun person.  I remember her laugh probably more than anything.  She always seemed happy to me.  Maybe it was all that fresh-squeezed orange juice!

Grandma and Mom (ca. 1970's - hence the glasses!)

One time, I got to go spend a few days at my grandparent's house.  My parents warned me that if I wasn't good, I wouldn't get to go back.  I probably was somewhere around the age I was when I wrote the letter (3rd or 4th grade or so).  Anyway, I rode all the way to their house in the back seat of their car with my hands neatly folded in my lap the whole trip.  I called them "grandmother" and "grandfather" ... which never happened before.  My mom said that when my grandpa got home from work I'd announce, "Grandma, your husband is home!" (More proof of strangeness!)

Howard & Bea Morris - they must've been awfully young here.

                    Love, love, love this picture.  Doesn't Grandma look so fashion-forward?

This picture is not very clear, but it is Grandma's childhood home in Bancroft, Ontario, Canada.  The picture below is also taken there, I think the same day from the looks of their clothes.

This is my absolute favorite picture of Grandma as a little girl.  I love her hair - and that dress! So cute!!

Do y'all still think I got my curls from Grandpa?