Mom and my granddaughter (we’ll just refer to her as “K") have a very special relationship. It started the moment “K" came into our lives. Even though Mom was nearly 90, “K" was immediately attracted to her. Actually, “attracted" doesn’t adequately describe their relationship. It was more like they were long lost buddies who had been reunited after many, many years.



It didn’t make any difference who else was around. The instant “K" walked in the door, she’d always head straight to Grandma. That’s what she would call Mom instead of Great Grandma. They would talk and play dollies. Talk and touch and smile and just be happy. They were together and that’s all that counted.

When the weather was nice and Mom was able to be outside on the patio, “K" would take her dollies outside just so she could be close to Grandma. And yes, they would talk and smile and be happy.

Now that I’m living several hundred miles away, I’m not there to enjoy this interaction between “K" and her Great Grandma. But I understand that they are still great buddies. If “K" is having a bit of a bad day, she and Mom will talk and it won’t be long until “K" is feeling much better about whatever is happening in her young world. If “K" isn’t feeling well, Mom is there to give hugs, rubs or whatever it takes to help the healing process. Most of the time though, I think it’s the love that’s doing the healing. Love really is a potent medicine, you know.

Buddies. Talking and smiling – and loving. You just know there is a lot of love shared between “K" and her Great Grandma. What a wonderful relationship between two people separated in age by almost ninety years. I like to hear about it. I enjoy hearing the nice things “K" tells her dad about this wonderful, continuing relationship and the nice things her Great Grandma does for her. It really is special. Very special.

And I’m sure that Mom is enjoying it too. It’s not like it’s a burdensome responsibility – watching over a four year old child. After all, they’re buddies. Always have been – always will be. I’m sure of that.

The date on Mom’s death certificate is May 5th, 2004. Maybe it should be re-titled to “New Life" certificate instead. It seems more appropriate somehow.

PS: I understand from “K" that Mom no longer needs her wheelchair. Isn’t that great?