Okay, a preface: When my Grandma passed away, at her funeral, we somehow came to the conclusion that the fly that was buzzing around was her, still around.
Do we avoid swatting flies now?
No, but we apologize to Grandma as we squash her.
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In going through the family photos, we found papers. There were receipts from the grocery store in the twenties, the canceled checks that my grandfather wrote to pay for the birth of my uncle, and just random stuff.
I read the very sweet note my Grandpa Ernie sent to my Grandma when they were courting. Grandpa Ernie was my Grandma's second husband, but he was the only Grandpa I ever knew on that side, and I would never use the word step- in reference to him. He was my Grandpa.
As I tucked the note back into it's envelope, smiling, I told my mother that a swarm of flies was about to descend, because I didn't envision Grandma thrilled to have her letter read by anyone else.
My mom laughed and told me that she had said much the same thing when SHE had read the note, and that her brother AND her son had been horrified that she had read Grandma's letter. She said that my sister-in-law looked like she was dying to read it, but didn't, faced with the frowns from my brother and uncle.
I was honestly taken aback. Isn't that why we keep things?
My grandmother has passed, and the only way I have to get to know her better now is through my mom's stories and the things she left behind.
Is it the difference between men and women? Is there such thing as privacy for your ancestors? Her history is my own, and I loved delving into it.
I dunno, what do you think? Did I invade her privacy?
