Dear Mom,

Subject: Dear Mom,
From: Your Daughter.
Date: 7 Jan 2019

I just watched an episode of Fresh Off The Boat. The Grandma had challenged the self perception of the oldest son by comparing him to the "soft" rapper out of the mixed tape of rap that he had created to "ease" her into rap music so that she would be able to enjoy it with him. When he denied her comparative analysis vehemently, she reminded him that he "freaks out" when the gas tank is half empty.
The episode concluded this story line with the oldest son taking the car out on his permit license without his grandmother while his parents were out of town on vacation. As you may have already surmised, he ran out of gas trying to prove his grandma wrong and had to walk home.
Upon his arrival, his grandma was there waiting for him in the driveway. The oldest son confessed what had happened and that she was right about him. Knowing that the grandson had learned an important life lesson, the grandma taught him how to siphon gas out of another car. After which the grandson exclaimed to the grandma's "gangster" status and asked her where she had learned how to do that.
The grandma replied "When I was your age, it was World War 2. I did a lot of hard things to survive. Steel, fight, sell counterfeit cigarettes to stupid soldiers." The grandson's response to this information came as no surprise to me. He asks, "Wow, how come you didn't tell me about this before?"

His grandma explains, "When you've lived a hard life, you'd rather not to be reminded of it."

Mom, if you're reading this, I just want you to know a few things. When I bring up my childhood, I bring it up because every sacrifice and hardship that you made and endured during that time made my childhood magic. I understand that you would rather not be reminded of the unhappiness that you experienced during that time. So, when I speak of my childhood, I want you to know that I'm not trying to bring up unpleasant memories with the intention of making you relive a part of your life that you'd prefer not to relive. I speak of my childhood because I want you to understand what your sacrifices, hardship, pain, suffering, blood, sweat and tears, BOUGHT for me.

It bought me magic. It bought me a childhood of dreams and magic. Nobody has a perfect childhood. I just wanted you to know, that in spite of any bad memories that either of us may have from that time, you bought me magic.

Magic is priceless and so are you. I love you.