Grandchildren are the nicest things. When they're babies, they snuggle and gurgle and make your heart go all gooey. When a diaper gets pooey (sorry, couldn't help the poetry) you don't even mind changing it. As toddlers their antics are adorable. These are the same antics that weren't nearly as cute when their parents, as toddlers, performed them. My favorite antic was hand prints left on the glass storm door - P&B on the inside, mud on the outside. They're older now, come and visit awhile, check out the junk food drawer, explore the back yard, ask if I've any new DVD's to watch and go off with mom to an "event". With the boys, it's something to do with a ball - any ball. The girls are dancing queens and a wanna be black-belt in Karate. How he, the husband I've outlived, would have loved sharing this experience. How COULD he have missed it?
We didn't share biological grandchildren as ours was a second marriage, but it didn't matter who was whose. We loved them all. I remember one afternoon when my eldest granddaughter, who was then about eight years old, came to spend the day with us. She and my husband were in the garage. He using glazing compound and a putty knife to reseal the glass panes on the people-door window. She using glazing compound to create miniature snakes and tea cups. She said to him, "Your name is too long. Instead of Grandpa Warren, I'm going to call you Pappy". And so it was. I'm still Gramma Sandy, but Pappy stuck. He changed her name to Gilbert.
There were the times David and Tyler came to stay with us. They loved the "pond", our affectionate name for the spa on the back deck. Rubber duckies, squirt guns, splishes, splashes, love and laughter...
He missed so much. All those firsts of his and my lineage. First tooth, first step, first time out, first day of school, first touchdown or dance recital, first broken heart, first prom, first shave, first love... Maybe, just maybe, from far up above, he hasn't missed a single instance. I hope not.
Sandy
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