Dear friend: a love letter to Annette

an inheritance of joy and generosity

Dear friend,

As a child, it is often a slow realization that what is true for you is not true for everyone else. Perhaps you slowly realized that your family had more or less money than others. Perhaps you slowly realized that not everyone communicates the way your family does or has different rules for how their family functions. One of my slow realizations as a child was about grandparents.

I didn’t know that not everyone enjoyed their grandparents or longed to see them more often. I eventually learned that for some, a visit to grandparents was a chore or something to be tolerated or endured. I had many years before I knew that there were children who were not delighted in by their grandparents and loved spending time with them. I didn’t know the gift of having an extra person to love me and love in return all my life. I’m so grateful to have gotten that perspective as I became an adult, eyes open to the inheritance I’d been so lucky to receive in Annette.

Annette holding me (Alison), June 1987

Annette was my great-aunt,¹ but I think it is more accurate to think of her as a bonus beloved grandma that I got to call my own. She was a different flavor of love than her younger sister, my maternal grandmother, Gramma Weezie, Louise. Where Louise was communicating in exclamation points, dramatic flair and tight hugs, Annette was communicating in commas, subtle nods and winks, a listening ear and a quiet punch line, just for you.

Annette, me (Alison) & Louise, Thanksgiving 2012

I close my eyes and I can hear Annette’s voice, a little musical lilt adding cadence to her words, greeting me joyfully. There always felt like a laugh waiting for the joke she knew was coming. I never doubted the love she decidedly offered me in every moment together, with her steady warmth and presence entering the room with her. What an inheritance she’s left me.

I've received the inheritance of her beautiful life as a single woman. When my own relationship status was single much longer than I would have preferred, I remember being grounded by her presence in my life. When the imagined life I'd have, meeting my true love in college had to shift as I graduated distinctly single, but rich in friendships and education, I remember being quietly comforted by the vibrant life I’d witnessed from Annette. I was not doomed to be a spinster. Far from it! Educator², flight attendant³, advocate, golfer, reader, involved aunt, loyal friend…Annette had an adventurous, beautiful life, and I would too. I knew that there were many good gifts to be had in my season of singleness, however long it might be.

I’ve received the inheritance of her joy and generosity, over and over again. Her delight in those she loved and loyalty to them was a gift to receive and to witness. Her generosity was never showy but came from a place of sincerity and love. When I think of those who I’ve experienced as having a truly generous spirit, Annette is always at the top of my list. I truly felt lavished in love by Annette, whether she was sending money to pick out my own present at Christmas as a child or gifting me a precious heirloom as I prepared for my wedding or whether she was providing an airport ride or space in her Manhattan Beach home for a visit. And her generous spirit was found in so many places, including her delight in the love stories of those she loved. I saw her deep love of her brother-in-law, Bill, receiving his presence as a friend and brother with gratitude and delight. I felt her own joy in celebrating my own marriage, not only with her presence at my wedding, but in gifting me with my own beautiful wedding ring from her jewelry box.

Jarrett & Alison’s wedding: July 6, 2013; Annette is in the pink coat and black pants, wearing sunglasses; (my mom’s side of the family pictured)

I’ve received the inheritance of following behind a well-educated woman. I don’t think I realized how grounding it was to chase after my own education in light of Annette’s own pursuits. Getting her PhD at 38 was something that had already taken place by the time I was born, but I certainly benefited from having my own educational pursuits cheered on and celebrated by someone who valued them so much. It was a gift to have Annette present at my high school graduation, and celebrate me from afar when I graduated from college, as well as just being someone in my life who loved to learn, and didn’t limit that experience to classrooms.

I’ve received the inheritance of her humor⁴ and her story-telling. How I smiled to see her sign her cards and emails as Saint Annette, never taking herself too seriously. I remember her quiet tales of what wig⁵ she wore to the golf course or what she did recently to amuse herself, on our visits to California growing up. How grateful I am to be following in the footsteps of someone committed to being fully herself and not taking herself too seriously.

I’ve received the inheritance of her encouragement and cheerleading. She was one of the first people to subscribe to my blog when I first began writing ten years ago. She happily shared posts with others,⁶ commenting thoughtful responses regularly and was proudly offering her services to be one of my first reviewers whenever I became a published author, trusting that was a certainty for my future.

I’ve received the inheritance of a love of animals and compassion for those who are our furry companions. Annette, like her sister, Louise, had a great love for animals and deeply loved her own pets, while also celebrating any animals in proximity to her.

I’ve received the inheritance of a love of good books. As an adult, it was a joy to share book recommendations with Annette and have her point me to books that became favorites.⁷ It was a gift to share this love of reading with her.

I’ve received the inheritance of a rich faith. Annette may have regularly joked that she was Saint Annette, but her faith was a deep, integrated part of her life. I heard her talk about praying over travel plans and things she had coming up, just as I knew she was showing up to pray and companion those in true moments of crisis in her community. Her faith was one that I saw as a steady foundation for her life, with Jesus as her trustworthy companion as she loved those around her.

Annette & me (Alison), celebrating Annette’s 90th birthday, October 2021

As I ache with the loss of beloved Annette, it is a joy to see the richness I’ve received from her life and to be able to gift her beautiful name to my youngest daughter: Clover Annette.⁸ In the words of Kathryn Schulz, “However terrible our sorrow may be, we understand that it is made in the image of love.”⁹ My sorrow over Annette is truly made in the image of love. And how grateful I am.

Dear friend, it is a joy to share Annette with you. I wonder if my memories of her brought to mind someone who is dear for you or a tender grief of your own. I wonder what it might look like for you to gently look at that grief, holding both the terrible sorrow and the gratitude and love together. I hope you are gentle with yourself here.

And if you’re someone who prays, I’d be grateful for your prayers as I travel with my two girls for Annette’s memorial service in California. I’m so glad to be able to be there to remember Annette with others who love her, and it is also a lot to travel with two kids across the country, especially with snow in the forecast for next week when we depart.

Dear friend, thank you for being with me. I'd truly love to hear from you. Feel free to just hit "reply" to this email. I read and savor every email that comes my way, even if I don’t always have the space to respond (which is often these days, but I’m trying!) I’d be so glad to know what grief you’re holding or if my words about Annette brought up anything to the surface of your heart today.

Warmly,

Alison

PS. I’m so glad to write you this letter for free. It is a joy to do so. It is such a gift for you to be here, and I don’t need more thanks than that. But if you find my words helpful and would like to support me even more, here are a few ways to do so:

• Buy me a coffee.

• Forward this letter to a friend or invite them to sign up to get their own Dear Friend letter here.

• Book me for an Enneagram coaching session.

• Stay tuned for another Dear Friend letter soon!

1. Annette died on November 11, 2024 and I miss her so.

2. Annette graduated from UCLA with her PhD in Educational Psychology in 1969 and went on to teach at California State University, Los Angeles.

3. Annette spent a year as a TWA stewardess based in Chicago.

4. The license plate for her silver car was HIHO AG (translation: Hi Ho Silver) which feels like a perfect example of Annette’s subtler, witty flavor of humor.

5. There has more than one occasion, although not in recent years, that I have worn a wig to shop at Costco or run some other errand inspired by Annette. It felt like a joyful, silly thing to do, entertaining me tremendously and feeling like a tribute to my wonderful great aunt.

6. She once shared a precious email exchange with me between her and a close friend about my writing. I read it again recently, and was taken back to the way it had flooded my heart with profound encouragement when I initially received it. It felt like such a kind gift to get to listen in on their conversation that stemmed from something I’d written and to hear how Annette spoke about me to others in her life. There were other times I know she shared my writing, forwarding a blog post or sharing how something I’d written impacted her, but this time felt especially memorable.

7. A precious memory is her sharing The Guernsey Literary And Potato Peel Pie Society with me. We had a sweet email exchange after I finished the book at her recommendation. It remains one of my favorite books and is one I’ve reread multiple times. (And yes, in my opinion, the book is much better than the movie adaption on Netflix, although the film is still sweet.)

8. It is a quiet grief that Clover and Annette did not get to meet in the year that their lives overlapped. Yet, it is a great joy of mine that every time Annette learned of Clover being alive and being named for her (which was often, as her short term memory suffered at the end of her life), it was a tremendous delight to her. How she loved this baby of mine who shared her birth month of October. I’m so grateful to know how she celebrated every story and photo of Clover that was shared with her.

9. This quote comes from Kathryn Schulz’s memoir, Lost & Found.