Dear Grandparents,
You don't know me but I'm your grand daughter. I was born long after you had passed. I've seen your photos. I have them hanging in my apartment actually. And I've heard your stories. That's what has always made me a bit sad that I never knew you.
I loved hearing about how you all came here from somewhere far away and how you had to struggle to set down roots. And I loved hearing about how you all flourished.
Grandma Kelleher - I love that, at the age of 16, you road one of the last existing legs of the Pony Express. That was just before the railroad came to the Dakotas and took that away forever. I have visions of this beautiful girl, long hair streaming behind her in the wind, riding her horse as hard as she can to get the mail to the hand off on time. I'm sure I have romanticized this somewhat but that's how I choose to think you were back then.
Grandpa Kelleher - The picture I have of you on my wall is one where you're standing there, casually leaning against a chair, wearing a vest, holding a watch that's connected to you by a watch fob. You look like you just stepped out of a movie. I know that was taken at the time you were the Sheriff in Park River, ND. I love that. Because even if I didn't know that I would guess, from the picture, that you were the Sheriff of some small western town.
Dad spoke fondly of you...and often. His stories were how I know you. I'm glad he shared them with me.
Grandma Reszke - I've seen pictures of you looking weather worn and hard at work on the farm. There is always great joy in your eyes. I've also seen pictures of you laughing out loud. Many pictures of that, in fact. That tells me, and my mom agrees, that you had a wonderful sense of life and humor. I wish I could have see those joyful eyes in person.
Grandpa Reszke - For you, I feel especially slighted for never knowing you because you actually lived with our family until your death which was right before I was born. My siblings have memories of you in your later years...some good, some not so good as your last days were particularly hard and gruesome. But in photos I see your pride. The photos with your "girls" - Grandma and your 4 beautiful daughters - show a light in your face and smile that tells the world you know how blessed you were. I know how hard you worked on that little farm in Minto to provide for those girls and make sure they had everything they needed to become the strong, beautiful women they are. And I know how you grieved when one of them passed on before you. No father should bury a child. I wish I had known you.
Grandparents, I hope that when you look down from wherever it is you are, you see me as someone to be proud of. I hope that my life is a testament to your collective strength and ability to survive. I love you all, even though I never met you.
Love,
Mary Beth
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