My oldest
granddaughter is college-bound, and I had been fairly vocal about wanting a
Maddie hug before she leaves the nest. She drove over from Frisco to have
supper with me last night. It’s the first time she’s driven here by herself,
and the first one-on-one visit we’ve had since the days I used to babysit with
her when she was an only grandchild—now there are seven of them. When she
walked in the door, I said I viewed the visit as a milestone, and she was all
grins as she agreed.
I asked what she
wanted for dinner, and she remembered the Italian restaurant where we’d had
good food and an unfortunate waiter several months ago—no reflection on the restaurant
and kudos to them for quickly correcting the situation. We went to Bravo, sat
on the empty patio with the evening breeze just beginning to stir, and had a
lovely time.
We talked about
college. She’ll go to Colorado University where, according to her previously
announced plan, she’ll major in psychology. This fall she’ll take psychology,
philosophy, biology, and American history from 1875. I envy her the history
course and reviewed in my mind the things she’d cover—Industrial Revolution,
Columbian Exposition if she’s lucky (she would if I were teaching the course),
world wars, Korea, Vietnam. She seemed unaware of WWI and WWII and high-fived
me when I told her they’d surely be included.
Maddie is a
certified nursing assistant, with an eye on an R.N. degree. She’s also young
and strong—perfect person to help me with my walking. We walked down the
driveway to the car and from the car across the parking lot, into the
restaurant, and headed for the patio. We weren’t too far from our goal, when I
had to stop and ask for the walker—my stamina had run out. But she said she was
very impressed with the improvement I’ve made. I thrive on praise like that.
We talked about
the family wedding where she was a flower girl, and I told her stories from her
childhood, and we talked about her cousins and family fun. At the end of our
meal, I thanked her for coming all the way to see me. She grinned and said, “I
was glad to. You’re fun.” What better compliment can you get from an
eighteen-year-old?
She’s one of the
many blessings in my life.
1 comment:
Congratulations to you all.
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