It may not mean a whole lot to you but to me it means everything. First of all, I’m a grandparent and I love it. The kids call me Granny. I’ve always made a joke about the best thing about being a grandmom is waving good bye and not having to pay for college. Since my grandest wast born and I’ve helped raise her, it’s taken on a whole different meaning. But wait. That’s not what this is all about.
My Mother’s parents traveled to America by steamer with many small children in tow to escape tyranny in what they called the old country. Speaking no English, they landed at Ellis Island and began a life not expecting a handout from anyone. Twelve children, all good citizens with the sweetest parents one could ask for. How they doted on their parents. I remember it so well. Honor thy mother and father and they did.
My father’s parents had substantial funds when they came to America. Six children also doted on parents so cold , it made me shiver when, as a little girl, I rode the streetcar to visit them. “Don’t touch,” they said. Scary but I followed father’s orders out of respect to Honor thy Stern Grand Mother and Stern Grand Father.
That was the family. As for me, I married the dearest man in the world and made a good life with him. Together we raised a batch of kids. Unfortunately he died too soon, way before he had a chance to become a grandfather. How lucky for me I met another kind and dear man who loves my/our grandest and enjoys watching her grow up day by day.
I write with loving care, books about mature adults still enjoying life; grandparents who believe “it isn’t over ’til it’s over”; sexy seniors who’ve found geriatric gymnastics different from ooh’s and ahh’s and you may need a pillow to prop up a painful knee or hip replacement but it’s well worth the effort, my friends. We’re alive. Enjoy every moment. And don’t forget your parents and grandparents, you.
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