My oldest daughter, Jenny, (my children’s half sister) blessed me with a beautiful baby girl to love a year after my husband died and so I became a grandmother at the ripe old age of 29! They lived in Kentucky for the first few years of her life so I didn’t get to see Lesley often until they moved back closer to me. Then, when I was 34, our sweet Jamey arrived and a little less than two years later, her baby sister, Brooke (aka “Brookie.)
Having three granddaughters in my 30s was AMAZING! Weekends were filled with cartwheels and cheers in the yard, sleepovers at Grandma’s, baking cookies, dancing in the den, somersaults down the hill, going to my son’s wrestling meets, Jello cube juggling in restaurants, finger painting, playing dress up, SpongeBob, and so many fun things. Of course, this was before my body started betraying me and I could physically do pretty much anything I wanted! I was ALWAYS the youngest “Grand” at Grandparent’s Day at school and got a kick out of the shocked looks on the faces of teachers and other grandparents when I introduced myself.
Grandma was the “go to” person for help with homework and projects. My own children were still in school, so when I tell people now that I have been raising and teaching/tutoring children continuously for the past 36 years, it’s no exaggeration! Like my dad did with me and I did with my children, I did my best to teach my granddaughters…about life and love; why we don’t throw trash on the ground, “it’s called littering” (they still laugh about that); to respect themselves and others; how important family is; and hopefully many other things. For eleven years, these girls were my only grands. Then came the other ten. I’ll tell you about them in my next post!