Dear Sam ..
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I wonder if your dad remembers how many times we read the book together when he was little? At night he'd snuggle in with his bear, falling asleep at nearly the exact time the last page was being turned
“You may like them. You will see. You may like them .. In a tree!
I would not, could not in a tree.
Not in a car! You let me be.
I do not like them in a box.
I do not like them with a fox.
I do not like them in a house.
I do not like them with a mouse.
I do not like them here or there.
I do not like them anywhere. I do not like green eggs and ham” ~ Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss
How I look forward to my visits, and this past weekend was no exception.
Sweet one, of course, I wish you lived closer, although by now I've come to really enjoy the long drives from me to you. I get to listen to books, eat Subway salads, and scribble reminders to myself of things I want to do
Who knew we'd spend a Saturday crashing parties, trying strawberries (for the first time!), and crawling in the squishy grass at the Arboretum. How did you know your Grandma and Papa love arboretums?
A story .. Once upon a time there lived a dog named Wally that we loved so very much. He and his best buddy Z couldn't wait to go for long drives and walks at the park. The Iowa Arboretum was his favorite place in the whole wide world. The last time Wally saw you, Sam, you were four months old. The only thing he wanted to do was sit by your side (and was forever sneezy from all of your powder)
I wish for you to have a really special dog in your life one day. One that touches your soul in the way Wally did all of ours
I wish time didn't pass so quickly. You're seven months old now. In baby years, let's see, doesn't this mean you should be responsibly independent with your own place, a 401k, and eating fancy morsels for dinners like gourmet mac and cheese?
I feel your age (or maybe it's my own?)
The lines on my face seem to be multiplying lately. I'm slower to get up from floor these days, and forty-five is now considered young. (ps: don't fear your forties, they're actually quite wonderful).
I'm certain I'm able to predict what your face will look like as an angsty teenager because it's the face you make when you're squiggling away from your parents. Your upper lip curls in a wildly funny manner, your eyebrows tower low.
It's the face your mom makes when she's worried about you, and the face I make when I realize I have no more clean socks. The world stands still with this terribly unhappy expression in your eyes until suddenly, you crawl to the middle of the living room floor, sit like a Buddha, smile a proud smile, and we all begin to cheer
That face is gone then, certain to return when your father refuses to let you live in the woods when you turn thirteen. (stories for another day my Love, and I promise they'll be good!)
I've forgotten what you should be doing at all of the different stages you're going through as you grow, and feel a little lost. How could I have raised two children and not remember?
Sometimes I think I need to stop worrying about it (should I be gifting solid food for you to eat? helping teach you to pull yourself up? how many teeth should you have by now?), and simply listen.
As you grow and your months turn into years, I realize this is a lesson you'll likely be teaching me for a long time to come
So here’s to listening to (and loving the heck) out of each other, sweetest Sam-I-Am. Something tells me we'll be figuring out the rest along the way
xoxo .. Grandma
Crikey you are the youngest looking grandmother I have ever seen. You look gorgeous and your grandson is super cute. I’m so glad you are getting to spend some precious moments with him Take care! x