three dears


Madison, our oldest grandchild, and her little brother rode with us to our house. As we pulled in our driveway, she squealed, “There’s a dandelion!” So my husband stopped the car to let us out before he pulled around to the back.

Madison scampered over to the dandelion and I followed, thinking of how I could convince it to blow towards the street or our neighbor’s driveway to stop from spreading more of these weeds into our yard.

But after she picked the long stem with its cottony top, she made no move to blow on it. As we walked down the driveway to the back of the house, I asked her about that.

“Wadie loves dandelions,” she said. “So you’re saving it for him to blow?” I asked. When she nodded yes, I replied, “Well, that’s a very nice thing for you to do – to share with your brother.”

Then she looked at me and said, rather matter-of-factly as though I should already know this, “That’s part of being a big sister.”

So true, sweet girl – so true.


Grayson, our second grandchild, was visiting when Pops (my husband) showed his a small cut on his thumb. “Look at my boo-boo,” said Pops.

Grayson frowned and then immediately went over to the kitchen sink, stood on his little stool, and said, “Tal, tal,” (towel, towel) as he stretched and tried to reach the paper towel roll.

“You don’t need a paper towel right now,” I said firmly.

But he would have none of that. “Tal, tal,” he continued. And of course I relented and tore one off for him.  Then he wanted me to get it wet, which again, of course, I did.

He hopped down from the stool and went straight to Pops.  “Boo boo?” he asked, and Pops held out his thumb.

Then Grayson took the towel and dabbed it on Pops’ boo boo.  He was careful to touch and clean it gently and then looked up into Pops’ face. “Better?” he asked, and smiled.

Much better, sweet boy – so much better.


Wade, our third grandchild (by only three weeks) was so excited when we came to his house. “Nan, Nan, come on,” he said, and he motioned for me to follow him.

We went to his room and he pulled out a thick blanket from the drawer. “Cape?” he asked.

I did my best to put it around him and tied it at his neck. He wiggled a bit and shrugged his shoulders. “Tank Ouu,” he said and disappeared.

Soon he was back without the cape but with a lightweight swaddling blanket in hand. “Cape?” he said again, and held it up.  I looked at it and smiled. “Better,” he said. And it was better – much easier to tie. So I suited him up.

“Now you can go fast,” I said. He smiled, ran across the room, and said, “Ready? Big hug!” Then he ran straight to my arms.

Yes I’m ready sweet one – always ready for this.

3 thoughts on “three dears

  1. Anita Ferreri says:

    precious memories!

  2. Ruth Ayres says:

    These are lovely moments! I love the way you let each child be themselves. It takes trust and mighty love to give children space to be themselves. They are lucky to have you!

  3. Oh, those stories are all so sweet! I loved reading them. You’ve really captured how precious and wonderful those kids are.

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