Today is my granddaughter Reynna's birthday. She is twelve, that age when she hovers between childhood and the teenage years.
I admit it: I am one of those obnoxious grandmothers who believes the sun rises and sets and rises again in her grandchildren. I attend church and school programs and preen over the any and all accomplishments. I imagine people looking at me and smiling indulgently, knowingly.
And you know what? I don't mind.
When Larry and I were hosting a dinner party one night and Reynna was visiting, I had her sing for our friends while I accompanied her on the piano. After everyone had left, Larry said, "You were in uber-grandma mode tonight." He was right. I couldn't help myself. I believe, no, I know, that Reynna is wonderful and I wanted everyone else to know that as well.
I know the time is quickly coming when Reynna won't want to spend time with her grandparents. I've already lost some credibility when she started school and learned that chocolate was NOT a vegetable. (Who would teach her such a thing?) She will spend more time with friends, with her own activities. That is natural. That is right. And I will be sad. In the meantime, I hold onto time with her and savor it as the precious thing it is.
So, for today, I am grateful for the wonder of Reynna.