It’s strange how time changes you. I remember as a child hating, loathing listening to John Denver with my grandmother. Now when my child demands to listen to the cd of Country Roads included with the picture book, what I feel is decidedly different. A mix of nostalgia, sadness and wonder. Wondering what life was really like for the woman I called Grandma. I only knew her for a fraction of her life. She had children much younger then I, as most of her generation did. I wonder what she felt as she met her husband, when she had her babies, when he died far too young. It makes me grateful, that some day my daughter will have this, to serve as a record of her early years. As document of who I was. Being a mother has changed me in ways I couldn’t even fathom. Some times I feel like an entirely separate person from the girl I was before I met this child. She’s made me appreciate those I call family in ways I can’t describe.
This fella is leaving the snow covered Midwest for the warm south. She(and I) will miss him. He has becomes one of the few regular visitors she’s really grown truly fond of, a relationship I’ve enjoyed watching grow. Travel safe Uncle Ty, you’re sure to get a Facetime call from a certain toddler soon.