Dear Ms. Johnson

I remember you for being kind to me as a child and teenager as well as some of the other older ladies, in our town. You lived right across the street from my great grandmother, and I could go over to your house and watch TV, with you and your husband, on certain nights or evenings. We didn't have a TV and you were kind enough to let me watch the programs you were watching. Other times, I would come over and ask Lindy, your son, to play the piano for me. Some times he would tell me to sing along. I loved to hear Lindy play the piano, and would hope to be able to play as well someday.
Sometimes on the weekend's when you had extra on the table you would invite me to stay for dinner with you all. This was great for me, because my grandmother, didn't cook the way you did and I loved the way you made the "good food". We didn't buy that expensive meat, and my grandmother didn't seem to know how to fix it either. So, eating at your house was a treat.
I remember the night they took you out of the house on a stretcher and put you in an ambulance. That was the last time I ever saw you, and I wouldn't go to your funeral, because I wasn't ready to accept that you were dead. I wanted to remember you alive and talking loud, with your big belly laughs.
I remember that you dipped snuff, carrying you spit can with you and would use a piece of limb, stripped of it's bark, to clean your teeth. Sort of like using a tooth pic, but you would frazzle out the end of it like a brush.
Thanks for the memories and the time you gave to me, that was rewarding to me.
Sincerely,
Kaye