I write to tell my grandchildren where they come from, and what their grandparents were up to , and I hope they will in their own way continue. I invite anyone else to listen in.
~~ Arthur Hertzberg
My yahooligan blogger friends know this character well - the Amazon Grandchild. What else is one to call someone whose parents both scrape the sky at 6'3?" I'm a Lilliputian in comparison at 5'3" and my ability to use my adult size to intimidate - well those days were numbered the day she was born. I've been fascinated with her ever since.
Whenever I visit the Bay Area, our ritual is the same: go to Starbucks for coffee and hot chocolate or juice, walk Buster along San Francisco Bay, take Buster to the dog park, and finally take AG to the children's park. I dare not forget. Someone once said that only elephants and grandchildren never forget. And so it goes...
I'm Nana - not because of any peculiar resemblance to the kindly St. Bernard caretaker in Peter Pan, but because Tim suggested that was a good name for me. Her role in my life was sealed when Tim considered potential losses in my life after his death and confirmed with my step-daughter that my place as Nana was honored and would survive even as Tim would not. Sacred promises - sacred obligations. His DNA runs through her. Only one reason she is so special to me.
My life in my Nana role now includes a carseat permanently strapped into the far back bench seat of my Dodge roadtrip van named Vanna White, a house full of Disney DVDs, coloring books and fingerpaints, bottles of bubbles at the ready, sand toys, small metal vehicles and a net basket that holds the overflow. My computer bulges and groans from the digi-weight of pictures taken from birth; she is my favorite human subject and even now endures my call for "just one more" as if she understands and tolerates my rather overbearing need to photodocument her as if she were an exotic alien. Nana!
She recently spent a solo week visiting with me and Buster - an invigorating, 24/7 demanding, humorous week with a five, almost-six year old who had just recently learned to swim. As you can see, she is a rather fearless character. Her waterbro grandpa would be proud. Hot fun in the summertime...Cannonball!
Bliss...almost forgotten since my own were that age...that is the experience of a Nana. Congratulations on the continuing journey, they aren't called "grand" for nothing, ya know? : )
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you have her in your life. :)
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful, Cris. So heartbreaking, the Tim parts. As the grandparent of a stepdaughter's child, I, too, know that sweet, particular relationship. So precious and cherished. My Grace is just 7 months so we're a ways away from cannonballs, but as Dillon leaves home for college, I will look forward to the child-energy this little girl will bring. The Circle of Life just goes on and on, doesn't it?
ReplyDeleteYou are lucky to have each other -and what better gift for Tim to give you and her and Robin other than each other. Living flesh of roving, restless spirits who can bring each other joy, company and bubbles.
ReplyDeleteYour description of your car puts me to shame. I'm often showing up places short of toys and bubbles and wondering how everyone else has it so together. We need a nana over here, too!