Dear Boys:
You may never understand the feeling or maybe you will after you are married, have children of your own and then they marry and present you with your first grandchild.
When your dad told me that you two were on your way, I crossed my fingers and prayed allot. Your mom had much trouble being able to hold onto you and we didn't know if you would stay or not. You did. The excitement grew and grew inside my heart. I began looking at baby things, toys, thinking of all the adventures I wanted to have with you. I dreamed of all the fun things we were going to do, catch poly wogs, go fishin' in the pond, ride a horse, build forts with tarps and ropes, make tents in the living room with sheets and chairs and move all the stuffed toys in there, along with some blankets and pillows and most important - snacks. Camp in our tent, read a book and fall asleep for the night. Eat ice cream, make cookies, run and play catch with the dogs. Oh so much I wanted to do.
This grandma had so many plans that I didn't know if your mom and dad would ever see you because I would just steal you and play with you as much as possible. The joy that grows in a grandma's heart cannot be compared to any other joy that she feels in life. I raised your daddy and it was a joy but then life goes on, daddy grows up and goes off into life to meet his wife, find his jobs and determine his occupation. While doing this he drifts onto the busy highway of life and doesn't get to see him mom very often. BUT, the lonely time is then filled with his babies, my grand babies. It is different, being a grandma. There are no worries about the responsibility of raising a child and doing it well. That is such a heavy burden to bare as there are no real instructions on how to do it. We all do it with lots of guessing, seeking advice from our parents and others and then just blind hope.
Grandmas just get to spoil her grand babies. I so looked forward to that. At first, I was there right after you were born. Caelan would sleep with me, sometimes laying on my chest. You were so smiley and fun. Vincent was a fussy one and cried allot. I would get Vincent to stop by singing (and grandma can't sing). I don't know whether he thought if he stopped crying, I would stop singing, it worked and I didn't have to torture him anymore.
I got to visit not as often as I liked. I lived 5 hours a away and had my own business. I could generally get away about once a month. You grew and grew. I remember one Thanksgiving, your grandpa and I came down, stayed in a nearby motel. Your mom fixed an elaborate dinner and set a beautiful table. Friends arrived, the table was set and when it came time for us to sit down, I did not have a place at the table. Your mom had set up a little cocktail table for me at the edge of your play area in the family room, on the other side of your child fence. I was to keep you entertained and quiet. Well, I did just that. It turned into a game and we had the best time. I would take a tiny bit of food from my plate and call to the "baby birds" and you two would toddle over and I would tease you and then drop the food into the "baby birds" mouths. We giggled and giggled.
You both began to speak and you had a little book that showed pictures of different things. One of the pages held a picture of a truck. Caelan would see the truck and yell out, "FRUCK, FRUCK!" Oh my. I was so tickled. You had a play structure in the back yard and Vincent loved to slide down the slide. I started teaching him the alphabet and I would have him point out different letters before he could slide down. We giggled and laughed and had such fun.
The last memories of I have of you was when your mom and dad brought you to Arizona to have Thanksgiving with your great grandpa and great grandma and your grandma and grandpa. We had also come from California to Arizona to my dad's home. I remember you two sitting with me in the den and calling to me, "Gamma? Gamma?" Oh what sweet words to my ears. To know that you recognized me, had a name for me - what an incredible feeling - it brought such a glow to my heart.
That is the last time I saw you. As I have said, someday your dad might tell you the story, or maybe not. It is not important. I will, by this blog, share my life with you which I hope will bring giggles, tears, possibly embarrassment and shock or not. So with that, my next blog will start that entry into "Who is My Grandma?"
