A love letter from Grandpa to Jamie

Grandpa John, Jamie's grandfather as the King of Cups.

I'm struck by letters and lost documents left forgotten in hidden places. One day you tidy up your house, tip over a box, and unlock a treasure trove of forgotten secrets. A love letter your grandma kept 85 years. Poems from your great-uncle. I've talked about my great-uncle and his connection to The Fool in The Time Travelers Tarot. We'll get back to grandma. First, Grandpa John.

He travels with Jamie after he's died. He died when Jamie was little, so she has few memories of him, but I'd imagine what she has are fond. What if Grandpa John--or any grandparent for that matter--could write a letter from beyond the grave? What would that look like? How might it sound? You might hear what becomes the essence of the King of Cups, the suit of emotion.

What I've created here is fictional, unlike the items I reference in my opening paragraph. But since Grandpa John has shown up in the tarot deck and persists in following Jamie through Time, I decided to let him speak. From the heart. I've composed a song in an album titled A Race Against Time with a song that started this journey. It may be imbued with the essence of my grandfathers. Maybe it speaks to you as well. And if you are interested in the books or The Time Travelers Tarot, either can be yours. Check out my social media pages to learn more!

Jamie,

I never got to tell you while I was alive how proud I was of you. Look at the woman you’ve become. I watched you grow, you know—quietly, from across the street. And you watched me too. I saw you peeking out your window toward the cemetery where your grandma and I rest. We’re still there. Still watching over you. Still loving you. And yes, still proud.

When I was alive, my pride and joy were my rose bushes. I won awards for those roses—did you know that? Those bushes are older than I ever was. I started with a tiny cutting from my father, and I tended it until it became the great tangle of roses you see around your aunt’s house. Every one of those blooms came from my hands.

So, when I wanted to travel through time with you, how else was I supposed to reach you? A rose. A single red rose. Sorry if it startled you. I know your roommate said, “Dead men don’t send roses.” Well, she’s wrong. I certainly do.

Remember that week you kept finding a rose every day? In your shoe. In your bed. Under your pillow. Strange places, sure—but I needed your attention. I wanted you to know I was there. I wanted to go with you. I wanted to help you as you stepped not only into adulthood, but into Time itself. I can travel too, you know. And here I am, reaching out.

And when Doyle Dalton came rushing out of the woods holding that rose? That was me as well. I found him first. I gave him the rose, so you’d know he was safe. You can trust him. I trust him. And I believe he carries knowledge you’ll need.

So trust him, Jamie. Trust me. And most of all, trust yourself. Time travel is a frightening thing, no doubt about it. But if anyone can do it—if anyone can stop Tristan—it’s you.

I’m right beside you in spirit, cheering you on.

Because I’m your grandpa.