GRANDDDAUGHTER #1
You were born just as I was going back to my teaching job at the end of summer vacation. I had to sit through one of those interminable faculty meetings, knowing you were waiting at the hospital to meet us. When I finally broke free, I rushed to the hospital, so excited that I stopped to fill my brimming gas tank, wondering why it overflowed. But I got there And there you were, with those enchanting brown eyes. Baby girl!
You grew in quiet contrast to your exuberant older brother. Early on, you began to draw and paint in surprising ways that intrigued us all. And you loved it. Where would this child go? Colors captivated you. On one of our hiking “adventures” in the Massabesic woods, you became enthralled by a flutter of tiny periwinkle blue moths. You were only two years old. I could hardly tear you away from them.
One Christmas night, after all the presents and munchies, you and I decided to escape the chaos and go for a moonlight walk. Bundling up against the sharp sting of the winter air, we took off down the street. So still was the night. Crystal clear. “Look at the moon!” I told you. Hazy and golden, it peered down at us through spidery tree branches crisscrossed by telephone wires, black against the sky. In spite of the cold, we stood still in wonder. “Capture this moment, Honey. Take a picture in your mind. This will never happen again.”
Our walk ended as we began to shiver in the night air. So we entered the warmth and light of the house again and as you warmed up, you pulled out the future tools of your trade and began to draw. I snuck a peek, and what I saw brought tears to my eyes. You were recreating our moonlight walk! Years later you took that drawing and recaptured it for me. I’ll treasure it for all my days.