And Then She Said. . .

There are countless  precious moments alone with my grandest granddaughter and as we both age–she is five + and I’m, well, way older, she protects me the way I’ve always cared for her. Today in NY during a torrential downpour, we waited in my car in front of her house hoping the rain would subside. Once in, after mac and cheese and a cup of blueberry apple sauce, her dinner not mine, she asked if I knew how to pirouette and spot. I did although with my new hip, I can’t execute the motion. Instead I improvised comparing the dance to a Taekwando move she’s learned. “Oh, that’s just like Master Yu taught me. So it’s like ballet.”

“In a way, yes. Look at me, turn your shoulders and spin, returning to look at me.” And she did. My heart filled with joy. Another reason for me to live a long life–one hundred and ten, at least.

At last daughter returned. I said goodbye after kisses. She ran, my grandest, green boots on umbrella in hand, after me. “Grans, Grans, hold my hand. I’ll walk you to your car.


What a blessing. She always sends me home with a smile.



8 thoughts on “And Then She Said. . .

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