In this photograph, my grandson is five or six years old. He is my first grandchild. Becoming a grandmother is a dream that did not disappoint. It was, is, and I hope will always be, even more precious than I had hoped the relationship would be when I first heard the news of his impending birth.
He just turned eighteen and graduated from high school in the same month. The colors for his school match the color of the shirt he wore all those years ago as he marveled over the pea-sized tomatoes I grew in my garden.
A mystery: rain recently washed up a small sand toy he and his brothers played with in the backyard sandbox. Once, I might have packed it up or even thrown it away, but now it is a treasure. Cleaned up, it will be placed in my keepsake drawer, a reminder of how fast time goes and a delightful prompter of lovely memories. God bless you all on these pathways we walk as we travel through life.
