My Own Nana

Dearest Derek,

Papa and I just love our Friday afternoons with you and Blake. The way your face lights up when you see us come into the room is its own reward, and then there's that big smile you reserve for Papa.

"Papahhhhh" you say just before the excitement takes over your legs, and you run down the hall or over to the back door. Because Papa never says "No" to taking you outside so you can play together, you dashing from one end of the yard to the other, and he doing his best to keep up with you. He especially likes pushing you around in your red "cahcah," and you especially like tugging his hand and urging him to take you for a little walk in the forbidden zone: the sidewalk in front of the house.

I am not sure if you are plotting your escape into the bigger world or if you just want to see the big, shiny "cahcahs" that are parked in the driveways and here and there on the curb. You point to the blue one that is in front of your house, and you say, "Nana cahcah." Yes, that's my blue car, Derek.

The first time you and Papa went out the gate, I was in the house taking care of little Blake, who is also such a happy fellow and very cuddly, too. You and Papa went out to the back yard, as usual. Suddenly, the doorbell rang at the front door. I went to answer it, and there you were! The joy bubbled up inside of you, and you giggled and laughed at the fun of this new game. Your laugh is a tiny bit maniacal and mischievous, and it lights up my heart.

Speaking of lighting up my heart, the other day I picked you up so you could see the appliances on the countertop in the kitchen. You are fascinated with those, just as you are fascinated with everything in your world. You held me very tight and put your head on my shoulder in a brief cuddle. And then you looked up at me and said, very softly, "My own Nana," and put your head back down on my shoulder. My heart melted so much that water ran out of my eyes. Yes, Derek, I am your own Nana.

And I love you.