She couldn’t wait to tell me about her upcoming trip to Maine where her maternal grandma lives. It would be a car trip, just Olana and her Mom, from their home in upstate New York. I, her primary care giver when Mom and Dad work, helped her pack. In some regards this the MOST excitng part because it involves that pleasant state called anticipation. Dolls, her stuffed horse, Chester, and as many sparkly tops as she could find were crammed into her pink suitcase.
“We’re leaving at four and stopping for supper,” she said, face all lit up.
I smiled thinking of that trip, probably six hours, but I wasn’t sure. I knew this was not the first time she'd visited her grandma in Maine, so I asked.
“Olana, how long will your trip take?”
What a silly question her look implied, but she answered matter-of-factly, “Until we get there.”
Melodi the Thoughtful Observer
The two youngest granddaughters always come with me when I absolutely must ‘go potty’ because, as all you grandmas know, a fifteen month old and a three year old can get into a lot of trouble if you don’t.
I always distract them with toys or something while I do the deed and tell Melodi, the oldest, to turn around when I have to readjust my clothing.
One day, though, she couldn’t resist a peek just before I buttoned my jeans. She caught a brief glimpse of my flesh colored undies with a tiny leaf pattern.
“I like your underware, Grandma,” she said shyly.
I smiled, said thank you, and quickly zipped. Then, after a thoughful pause, Melodi spoke again, almost in a whisper.
“I think you should keep those.”
Last summer, while picking up my nine-year-old grandson from swimming, Sam told me how well his lessons were going. Anna, who was five at the time, held my hand as we headed for the car. I lamented to them about not being a good swimmer myself.
I told Sam that my siblings and I were not able to take swim lessons. Our parents couldn’t afford it and our mother didn’t even drive until I was ten, adding that we spent most of our summers at home. He was fascinated with my story and asked me a couple of questions. As we talked I was fully aware that Anna was listening intently to our conversation.
Sam expressed his sympathy for me and wanted to know more about poverty in the “olden days.” I paused to frame my answer and Anna tugged on my hand.
“Grandma,” she said, her face a question mark, “when you were little was everything in black and white?”
All I can add is – Thank Heaven for little girls.
Pictures - Olana and Melodi during the church egg hunt this Easter and Anna with her decorated Christmas cookies.