A couple of years ago for Christmas, my sister, Whitney, took all my grandmother and grandfather’s love letters and made them into a book.
It was called Letters from Box 54.
There, in print, were all the everyday, the simple, the overlooked and the ordinary of our grandparent’s lives.
But in those moments–shared from letters written long ago with paper and ink, you could catch a glimpse of the overwhelming, incredible, amazing love they shared for each other….
…and see the extraordinary written in every line.
We all loved the book so much that we begged her for more history. “Make a family tree,” we’d say. “History would come alive under your watch,” we’d encourage. “You are the perfect family-treeer. No one could make a family tree like you,” we’d implore.
But to no avail.
She would smile and laugh roll her eyes and shake her head and explain that family trees were a challenge she didn’t really want to take on.
Until this year.Continue reading