For Your Grandma-On Her Birthday

Today...a few decades ago, your Grandmother arrived. I imagine she let out a significantly loud scream just as you did. Her Dad, your Great Pap probably pulled her in his arms as his entire universe suddenly made sense. I'm sorry you never got to meet him. They will never make another like him, your Great Pap.

I'm sure your Great Grandma, a Teacher, held her in her arms and said a little prayer, just as she does daily for strangers, friends and family. She's a saint, your Great Grandma.

And here she was, born Becky Ann Boyd. Her future was so bright mainly because the two people staring at her loved her and told her they loved her every single day. Kind of like we do for you.

Your Grandma arrived today many years ago...and who knew her legacy would include you? Who knew? I can't help but imagine the way she felt on this day in all the years to come leading up to this day. I can't help but think the years flew by like we all know they do. Years spent gathered around different tables surrounded by people who adore her.

What a legacy she has created with the most gentle, kind, non-judgemental hands. A journalist turned children's librarian with a side dish of counseling friends along the way, her profession impacted young lives, but it's her heart that reaches so many.

Her heart.

I Hope I'm There

I hope I am present shortly after the birth of your first child.

Physically.

Emotionally.

Spiritually.

I hope I'm there to watch you hold him or her for that very first time as your entire life flashes before your eyes and for the first time you get it...what it feels like to lay your life down for another, how it feels to understand what really matters.

I hope I'm there. Whatever plane, train, cab, bike or UFO needs to get me there. I hope I'm there.

I hope God gives me 30+ more years of health to be present for you in this phase of life. I hope I'm there to watch you when he is she is 2 (just like you). I hope I'm there to peak in at you when you rock him.

I hope you're the kind of Dad who rocks him.

I hope I'm there.

Things Only You Can Teach Him

It hit me yesterday as you were standing in the backyard with your hands on your hips making a mental to do list. Just inches behind you, he stood like a tiny replica of you...hands on his hips staring at the backyard ready to move the minute you moved. There he stood imitating your every move. While you used a heavy metal shovel, he used a tiny plastic shovel. When you stomped on massive chunks of soil, he stomped on tiny chunks of soil.

There he stood...3 feet tall looking up at you, two times his size.

There are things only you will be able to teach him.

I'm not talking about the hard stuff...like how to fix down spouts, a car or a broken toilet. You will teach him those things too, but you will show him how to treat people. You will show him how to help a neighbor in need or a homeless man who hasn't eaten in days. You will teach him how to see outside of himself. You will show him the value of family and the definition of hard work. You will teach him not to take life too seriously, but how to act serious in serious moments. You will show him how to remain calm in un-calm moments. You will pass on your love for books and learning...always learning. You will teach him how to say "thank you", "I love you" and "I appreciate you" to his future wife.

You will teach him these things not because you read a book on how to be a good father, but because you try every single day to be a good father. And you succeed. You will teach him these things because you put the phone down and pick him up and hug him and tickle him and tell him you love him. You will teach him these things because you read to him and rock him and tell him you love him every single day.

There are things only you will be able to teach him.  

Pure Joy

As summer fades to Fall..."It's time for night time," I tell you.

"Rock me," you plead.

And I do...longer than I should. I rock you and hold you tight...tighter than I should. Surely there is a point where the squeezing knocks the wind right out of you. You seem content. And so am I. You take your paci out. Yep, you still use your paci at night.

"I love you so much," you say.

Finally I carry you over to your crib. Yes, you're still in your crib. It's an old house with steep stairs. We sleep better with you still in your crib. It feels safer.

"Rub my back," you say (in a bit of a bossy tone).

I do. I rub your back and tell you I love you. I tell you that we will take an adventure tomorrow.

"Venture," you scream.

Everything has become "an adventure" from a short walk to a trip to Target. You love your "venutres!"

And you have entered the "what's that?" phase.

The months have flown by like one of those little flip books with cartoons. You're turning 2.5 in a few weeks. The milestone of you turning one literally feels like it just happened. And now you're 2.5. And soon you will be 3 and 4 and 5.

Your pure joy for life is contagious. Your curiosity has made me more curious. Your smile ignites my happiness every single day.