Last night I cried. I haven't cried for a pretty long time. I cried because my grandchildren live too far away and the littlest one, in particular, has so much competition for her time that others are getting to her before I can and maybe she won't even know me. My dear man, who knows when to hug and sooth, reminded me that soon I will be retired and then I will be able to go as often as I want to watch her grow and that she will know me very well. I hope he is right. It pains my gut so much to know she is growing fast, she is cutting teeth, learning to roll over, sitting up, eating real food, drooling, crying, laughing, and I am not there to see.
7 comments:
She is rapidly getting cuter!
She most certainly is. I don't feel so blue today. I will be there in 18 days!
Don't cry Grandma. I love you so much and am excited for you to come and hug and kiss me. See you very soon.
Love Alison
Thank you, Alison, I am counting the days. Only 14 days to go. I love you! Grandma D.
dear mom -
My son scarcely got to see his grandma until he was 3 - and then only had her in his life until her death when he was 8.
He is almost 26 now, and remembers her well and often...
some cliches are true - and "Quality, not quantity" is one of them.
I am so sorry to know that you are (were) crying. It is only natural that grandparents and grandbabies be near each other. ANything else is a modern device made necessary by meeting people elsewhere, taking jobs elsewhere, both of which I am against. I am an orphan in my belief, but my belief remains very strong. We won't be able to see our wonderful Rachel this year because of money. She must work (at Wal-Mart, which she really likes and says they are good to her so I don't badmouth the place) and stay at school (U. of S. Dakota). She has good friends and a good attitude and I understand. But I know, in her heart, she wants to be here and feel badly for her and for us. I had two sets of grandparents. One set I lived with for my first 3 yrs. My psychiatrists believe those 3 yrs saved my psychological/emotional life. The other set was......well, a grandfather who steals the Thanksgiving turkey from the middle of the table and runs halfway back to Fargo can't be all good - - the other set was just plain weird. The grandmother didn't speak. The grandfather lived with his two prettiest daughters, called The Beautiful Twins, LeDoris and Deloris. None of the younger husbands were fast enough to catch him with the turkey. I was shocked. Appalled. I was eleven. I thought my father could do ANYTHING but he couldn't even stop an old toothless man from stealing a Thanksgiving turkey.f HIS OWN FAMILIE'S Thanksgiving turkey. So we sat, eating dressing and gravy and potatoes and yams, only THINKING of the turkey and how good it would be to have it there, in the center of the table.
Your current Thanksgiving sounds like something out of a deliciously good memoir. I would actually give anything if Jim's parents were alive again and we could go there for one of their too-well-lit-non-alcholic-strange Thanksgivings. Or my parents' wonderful-tasting but horrible-in-spirit Thanksgivings. Just one more time, please. Just one more time.
I am so sorry to know that you are (were) crying. It is only natural that grandparents and grandbabies be near each other. ANything else is a modern device made necessary by meeting people elsewhere, taking jobs elsewhere, both of which I am against. I am an orphan in my belief, but my belief remains very strong. We won't be able to see our wonderful Rachel this year because of money. She must work (at Wal-Mart, which she really likes and says they are good to her so I don't badmouth the place) and stay at school (U. of S. Dakota). She has good friends and a good attitude and I understand. But I know, in her heart, she wants to be here and feel badly for her and for us. I had two sets of grandparents. One set I lived with for my first 3 yrs. My psychiatrists believe those 3 yrs saved my psychological/emotional life. The other set was......well, a grandfather who steals the Thanksgiving turkey from the middle of the table and runs halfway back to Fargo can't be all good - - the other set was just plain weird. The grandmother didn't speak. The grandfather lived with his two prettiest daughters, called The Beautiful Twins, LeDoris and Deloris. None of the younger husbands were fast enough to catch him with the turkey. I was shocked. Appalled. I was eleven. I thought my father could do ANYTHING but he couldn't even stop an old toothless man from stealing a Thanksgiving turkey.f HIS OWN FAMILIE'S Thanksgiving turkey. So we sat, eating dressing and gravy and potatoes and yams, only THINKING of the turkey and how good it would be to have it there, in the center of the table.
Your current Thanksgiving sounds like something out of a deliciously good memoir. I would actually give anything if Jim's parents were alive again and we could go there for one of their too-well-lit-non-alcholic-strange Thanksgivings. Or my parents' wonderful-tasting but horrible-in-spirit Thanksgivings. Just one more time, please. Just one more time.
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