Dear Tammy,

Good old dog.

You were the only dog I really ever knew, you were the only dog I really ever loved.

Every time we pulled up to grandma and grandpa’s white corner house with red trim, I knew you were just steps away. As I pulled open the rickety-kind-of door that always slammed shut behind me, there you were, eagerly waiting at my feet.

You followed me around the kitchen as I snacked on saltines topped with butter and cookies from the cookie jar. You lay in the corner of the kitchen by my feet as I dined on fried eggs and bacon, pickled pimiento loaf sandwiches, grandpa’s homemade vegetable beef soup, beef loin, and vanilla ice cream topped with cantaloupe.

I’ll never forget the click clack of your paws tracking across the plastic mat laid at the entrance to the living room. When I swiveled around in the chair on the other side of the kitchen sink, you sat by my feet. When a Christmas tree was there instead of the chair, it was all the same to you, you were still there. And when I ran my hands across the brown and white ridged wall that surrounded the fireplace, you were one step away, ready to play.

You were brown, you were fluffy, and let’s be honest, you always smelled a little. But I didn’t really care. Because I was a kid. I loved you for who you were – an irreplaceable part of the memorable experience known as grandma and grandpa’s house.

Thank you Tammy for being the dog I never had,

Amy

*If you’d like to read more from my #31Days Letters to the Unthanked series, click here for the landing page where all the letters are listed and linked!

Dear Cyndy,

Words can’t express how grateful I am for your presence in my life. You’re my sister’s Godmother and I have a Godmother of my own, so let’s just call you my second mom and leave it at that!

Years before I was even a twinkle in my parents’ eyes, you were there. They knew you before they knew me.

When mom’s belly was growing round and she’d never done any of this before, you were there.

When I toddled on the lawn, you waited, ready to catch me if I fell and needed help getting back up again.

You were there when we lived in the blue house with the L-shaped wood fence at the end of the driveway. For birthday parties, weekend getaways, confirmations, and even a trip to Opryland! You were there for the parade as I marched down the street with my flute, pouring rain drenched right through that thin, white windbreaker with Amy embroidered on the front. You planned our itinerary for prom dress shopping, and got an insider’s view of the limo before we pulled out of the driveway. And my high school graduation party? I knew you wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

You hosted us kindly with sloppy joes, potato chips, carrots and dip, pickles, and rice krispie treats in Tupperware containers labeled just so with masking tape. And in the evenings, we all gathered on the couches downstairs, eating Baker’s Square French Silk pie or yummy homemade bars, watching a movie we’d chosen from the strip mall movie store that doesn’t exist anymore. Your family calendar was always a drawer pull away from the kitchen island – a whole host of events detailed in pencil, but there was always room for more of us.

When we moved to the gray-blue house with the white fences in front, you were there. When sister graduated and I graduated again, and just a month later, they dressed me in a toilet paper wedding dress at my shower, you were there. You joined me, mom, sister, and mother-in-law for wedding dress shopping, and when I walked down the aisle, you were invited to sit near the front, with family. You came as mom’s guest to my college friend’s wedding and watched as I walked down the aisle again, this time as bridesmaid.

When my belly was full and round, you came for the shower. You warmly welcomed baby #1 and #2 with hospital visits, and baby #3 was home visit worthy just days after birth.

When times were changing, you showed up and helped mom and dad move out of their gray-blue home into a house sufficient for retirement. We celebrated a birthday and honored friendship that lasts. When I called to report bad news not once, but twice (well…more likely three or four times), and when times got tougher yet, you showed up every single time. You surrendered your sanity one day, lassoed loose words and threw them back into the ocean of grace and forgiveness another day, and spent yet another day drying shed tears, packing boxes, and moving things from one place to another only to learn later it was all for naught.

When it could have been easier to bail, you didn’t. You came back for more, listening and understanding, loving and living this one wonderfully tough life – together. That is the mark of a true friend. That is the mark of a woman I’m proud to refer to as my second mother.

I’m not sure I could have gone through this life without you, and I’m so grateful you’ve been there through it all. Good times and bad.

Thank you for all that you’ve been, all that you are, and all that you will be,

Amy

*If you’d like to read more from my #31Days Letters to the Unthanked series, click here for the landing page where all the letters are listed and linked!

In October, I’ll be participating in one of the largest blog link-ups that exists, 31 Days hosted by The Nester. This year, in 31 Day’s 5th year, over 1,500 bloggers are participating! The challenge is to choose a topic and write about it for 31 days straight. All of the bloggers who participate link-up their series on The Nester’s site where you can click on various topics and read until your heart’s content.

Any time I thought about topics I’d be able to write about for 31 days, Letters to the Unthanked was one of only two that kept coming to mind. When I finally decided to participate, I had no doubt that would be the title of my series.

From a young age, my mom taught me the importance of writing thank you notes when I received gifts from friends and family. Thank you notes weren’t an option in our house, they were a requirement! As I’ve grown older, I’ve kept that tradition alive. Yes, there have been occasions when time has escaped me and I’ve neglected to send a thank you, but every time I forget, I feel like I missed a step.

It’s fairly easy to thank people for things. Thank you for the pajamas you gave me for my birthday! Thank you for the books you gave me for Christmas! Thank you for the beautiful necklace you gave me for Mother’s Day. These are the first lines of thank you notes I’ve spent a lifetime writing.

But it’s not as easy to be purposeful about thanking people for things they’ve done. I can’t thank you enough for being my mentor. Thanks for showing me what it really means to be a friend. Thank you for the time you made me laugh harder than I’d laughed for years. These are the first lines of thank you notes I’ve spent a lifetime writing in my heart.

Over the course of one day’s worth of nap times and bed times, I flipped through 37 years of photo albums, generated 58 unthanked individuals, and narrowed that further to 31. Think there’s room for a follow-up series, More Letters to the Unthanked? I believe so!

This month, I’ll write a blog post every day for a total of 31 Letters to the Unthanked. In each post, I’ll thank an individual or group of individuals for the significant and unique ways they contributed to my life. Some posts are heart-warming and inspiring, some will stir you emotionally, and a couple are just outright comedic!

All 31 posts will be published on my blog home page as usual, but this post will serve as my series landing page. Below are links to ALL 31 posts in the Letters to the Unthanked series. It’s simple…find a letter you’d like to read, click on it, and the letter will pop right up!

Day 1: Dear Cyndy: A Letter to My Second Mom

Day 2: Dear Tammy: A Letter to My Grandparents’ Dog

Day 3: Dear Jamie: A Letter to My Childhood Friend

Day 4: Dear Florence: A Letter to My Day Care Provider

Day 5: Dear Grandma: A Letter to the One Who Made Her Mark

Day 6: Dear Nativity Director: A Letter to the One Who Chose Me As Mary

Day 7: Dear Mr. Steblay: A Letter to My Tennis Coach

Day 8: Dear Sonja: A Letter to my Flute Teacher

Day 9: Dear Denise: A Letter to my College Roommate

Day 10: Dear Quinn & LeeAnn: A Letter to My Awesome College Friends

Day 11: Dear Delts & Delt Girls: A Letter to the Only Ones Who Knew Me As Party Girl

Day 12: Dear Jen & John: A Letter to My Wind Ensemble Friends

Day 13: Dear Tim: A Letter to the Pastor Who Chose Me

Day 14: Dear Jenny: A Letter to the One Who Spoke of God’s Voice

Day 15: Dear Dr. Gierut: A Letter to My Graduate School Professor

Day 16: Dear Brittany: A Letter to My Sweet Grad School Friend

Day 17: Dear Rachel: A Letter to My Former Colleague, Mentor and Friend

Day 18: Dear Selmer & Anita: A Letter to My Husband’s Grandparents

Day 19: Dear Patti: A Letter to My Baby Boy’s First Daycare Provider

Day 20: Dear Anonymous Disney Employee: A Letter to the One Who Made My Day Magical

Day 21: Dear Dr. Busch: A Letter to My Childrens’ Pediatrician

Day 22: Dear Children: A Letter to the Two Who Made Messes

Day 23: Dear Eli: A Letter to My Son’s Swim Instructor

Day 24: Dear Ladies: A Letter to the Ones Who Got Me Out of the House

Day 25: Dear Fairy Godmother: A Letter to the One Who Reminded Me Miracles Are Possible

Day 26: Dear Briana: A Letter to My Sister’s Friend

Day 27: Dear Stepsister: A Letter to the One Who Stepped Out of Character

Day 28: Dear Jennifer: A Letter to the One Who Made Beauty

Day 29: Dear Nikki: A Letter to the Online Friend I Met (in) Real Life 

Day 30: Dear Sarah: A Letter to the One Who Tends Little Spaces, Hidden Places

Day 31: Dear Colleen: A Letter to the One Who Cracked My Code

31 Lessons From #31Days

I placed the series graphic on the right sidebar of my blog ——–> so you can click it anytime, and it will bring you back here where all 31 letters are listed and linked.

You can follow me on Twitter at twitter.com/AmyBPederson where I’ll tweet links to all 31 posts using hashtag #31 days, or on my blogging Facebook page at facebook.com/AmyBPederson.

Thanks for visiting and happy reading!

Amy