Dear Luki,

There are a ton of funny stories and interesting anecdotes I want to tell you about your grandpa, and I really hope to do so throughout the course of the year. But there are also very specific memories I want to share. Memories that aren’t necessarily part of a  bigger tale. Memories I considered insignificant for most of my life and that, now that he’s gone, keep coming into focus.

And it’s wonderful. To be driving home from work and suddenly be overcome by an exact moment I shared with him.

So this week I want you to know that, when I was a little girl in Cuba, your grandpa sharpened my pencils with his knife.

At the risk of sounding like the clichéd toothless grannies on T.V. who start every sentence with “why, back in my day…”, I have to explain that in the Cuba of the late eighties and early nineties, pencil sharpeners were not a household tool. I know that probably boggles your mind, Luki. And that’s why you should just take a quick second right now to be thankful — in great part to your grandpa — for being born in a land of plenty. The U.S. isn’t a perfect country by any means, and I certainly hope you do all you can to make it a better, fairer, more inclusive place — but it is a land of opportunity, of hope, and of generally accessible school supplies.

I remember. I’d take my dull writing utensil over to him, and he would slowly work his way around the pencil, peeling away layers of wood until a perfectly sized chunk of lead was exposed. Then he would delicately file the lead to make it flawlessly pointy.

I’ve never seen an electric sharpener achieve the same effect.

Your grandfather wasn’t a scholar or an intellectual and when I was growing up, it was your grandma who’d usually help me with my school work. But he did everything he could to help me succeed.

And I remember. I remember that when I would sit down to write with one of your grandpa’s freshly sharpened pencils, I aimed for better penmanship.

Sometimes the simplest things can be an inspiration to others, Luki. I hope you grow up to find and give that kind of inspiration.

Love,

Mom