I sit beside the woman as she holds her granddaughter in her lap. Except for the 60-year age difference and the fact that one has grey hair and one has a wild mop of beautiful auburn curls, they look so much alike that there can be no doubt of the family bond. A dandelion has been carefully and lovingly tucked over each of the grandmother’s ears. You can tell she has forgotten that they are there: it makes for an endearing and beautiful image…
The morning has been a long one for the three-year old and she is beginning to tire: the two of them have been assembling a huge mass of toy rings onto their holder and now that the job is done, the little girl has begun to squirm a bit, already in search of something else to do. I look away for a moment, following some other stream of conversation in the room, and when I look back, the little girl has begun painting her Grammy’s nails a lovely deep shade of purple. Intent on her work, I watch as she carefully paints each nail. They are both completely engrossed in the task: child intently focussing on every brush stroke and grandmother obligingly moving her hands and fingers this way and that in order to make the job a little easier.
I am smiling now; the nail polish has covered not only the grandmother’s nails, but also the skin surrounding her nails and several tips of her fingers. As the little girl has been working, she has been slowing melting into her Grammy’s lap. She looks like she has been half-hypnotised by the task and truth be told, I feel much the same way just watching her work.
I know this grandmother. She is a friend of mine and I have been watching her in action for a while now. She is one of those people who – when she is speaking to you – makes you feel like you are the only person in the room. She has five children and a growing, boisterous, animated, intelligent brood of grandchildren. She treats each grandchild with love and respect and makes it a point to have them overnight – one-on-one – as often as possible. They all adore her.
She is everything I hope I will be if I am ever lucky enough to be a Granny in my own right.
And if I do not get to be a Granny, that will be alright too. She is a loving, generous woman and she doesn’t mind sharing her grandkids with me whenever we are together.
I guess that will do just fine…
Patti Moore Wilson © wednesdayschildca.wordpress.com