Even though it can be so tedious to hear people talk about their grandchildren, especially for people who don't have them -- and I apologize for that now -- I do want to tell you about fourteen gifts my young Bridget, who is four, gave me for Mother's Day. She is an only child, not a coddled child, but encouraged and well-loved. We spend most Fridays together.
She absolutely adores presents. She loves getting them and she really loves giving them. Last week she popped out of the car and reached back in to grab a geranium in each hand. Pink of course -- she's all about pink. Walking towards me she was shining. "Are those for me?" I said. She nodded her head yes, too emotional to speak words. We found a good place for the flowers, and she ran back to the car to get her backpack. It looked so heavy; she dragged it.
She unzipped it onto the living room floor, many packages with bright blue Christmas paper and lots of tape. She is squinching her face up and jump, jump, jumping all around the room. After a while, she is able to take a blue package in her hand and bring it over. It is so round and kind of heavy. "Is it a rock?" I ask. More nodding, more jumping, more funny little faces. Hand-painted orange rock. Next, an unpainted rock. They do wrap up nicely. Then the pine cone series, all painted, seven of them. Color book pages circled into empty toilet paper rolls. Princesses. I am o happy with this blue extravaganza. I remember being really young and making gifts for the family, and because I loved gifts, I loved giving gifts too. I don't remember when that feeling went away. It's a great memory though, and I want it back.
My friend KC gave Bridget a bottle of Elmer's glue for her birthday last year. Seemed odd to me, but you know what? It has given her an interesting confidence. If something breaks she casually says, "Oh, we'll just glue that."
She's in Michigan on a trip right now. I made her a gift. She wants to play Barbies, but those stupid clothes are too hard for her to put on. So, Grandma helps with that. Instead of reading thirteen chapters of The Invisible Man for school last week, because my brain was weary, I spent the night sewing Barbie clothes that she can put on, sort of like Barbie mumus. And watching Hogan's Heroes. She'll be so excited, and I kind of am too.
Sandy Nelson is a long-time member of the St. Croix Writers group. She writes lovely slice-of-life memories that always encourage readers and listeners to think of the small beauties, cherishable moments, and funny happenstances that surround us.
