Wednesday, June 27, 2012


There’s nothing I enjoy more than walking into my granddaughter’s school and seeing her light up when she sees me. She runs toward me and gives me a hug that almost knocks me down. No one loves me like my granddaughter loves me. She will be eight years old in a few days. Currently she’s totally obsessed with Michael Jackson. When she gets in my car she immediately says, “Play Smooth Criminal by Michael Jackson”! Since I’m a cool Grandpa, I loaded some Michael Jackson on my iPod and we listen to him when we are driving around together.  Chloe even has a Michael Jackson doll that my son found on eBay. When she’s not playing with it, he sits on the shelf next to her Pee Wee Herman doll. Recently Chloe asked me what a hippie was. I explained it as best I could since I do have some personal experience. A couple of days ago she told me that you have to be at least sixty years old to be a hippie. When I told her I was in my sixties, she just smiled at me.  Although I try to have a zest for living, there are certainly days when life just feels like a struggle. Sometimes on such days I am blessed to spend time with Chloe. She is so full of energy, wonder, and questions. Her energy overwhelms me at times. Once when I asked her if she was happy, she looked at me like she didn’t understand the question. I received one of those, “Why wouldn’t I be happy?” looks. The timing in life when a person becomes a grandparent is probably perfect. By the time you reach your 50’s or 60’s, you very likely feel weary. You’re often tired of everybody and everything. Then, if you are lucky, the universe gives you a grandchild and if you are open to it, a grandchild is a true gift and a reminder of what’s important in life. It’s also a reward for all the toil of being a parent.  I love my granddaughter!

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