One day she was here and the next she was gone.
We’d been taking care of our granddaughter on weekdays since September. Although getting up early in the morning to care for her was a bit of a yawn, our dear granddaughter was anything but.
We thought we’d have her with us until the end of May. We sort of thought we’d have a few more months. But things happen, don’t they?
And now, we not only don’t have her here every day, we can’t see her or hug her or be the recipients of her rare but sticky kisses. Thank goodness for FaceTime.
The virus, the pandemic, has changed lives for everyone. This little glitch is our price to pay. In the big scheme of things it is inconsequential. Still, inconsequential is our new every day, and I can’t help but miss her. We all can’t help but miss her — me, her papa and her uncles. (We miss her mom and dad too, but if we are being honest here, she definitely has the cuteness factor locked in.)
Our daughter called last night, and our little sweetie just learned to say “Grammy”
“Hi Grammy,” she said twice into the camera.
She still remembers me. That’s good.
Her uncles were here, and they wanted a piece of the FaceTime fun, but our grand had only one word to say to them: “Papa!”
“Don’t you want to talk to your uncle?” I asked.
“Papa!” was her repeated and emphatic reply.
So we brought the phone to Papa. I tried to get her to demonstrate her new vocabulary word (Grammy) to him, but the girl has a mind of her own. She was strutting about her living room, much like she used to strut in our kitchen. I’m glad she is still feeling spunky. I wonder if she feels the change in the world. I hope not. Not yet.
Before I was ready, she was done talking to us. “Bye bye,” she said.
We signed off with my daughter and that was it. Until the next time.
Her toys — too many for us to have of course — sit unplayed with. Her snacks are untouched. Her diapers and wipes are in the back closet. Her birthday present is in the front closet. We’re not sure if her party will be canceled. The present will wait. I suppose we’ll put the toys away eventually.
My husband used to make her breakfast every morning. She’d arrive at 7:30 and issue a one-word directive: “Pancake!”
And of course that’s what she got. Because she was the boss. There was no disputing that.
Now she is home with her mom and dad, and that’s a great thing. Still we miss her little big personality. We miss the way she used to strut around the house circling around the kitchen island giggling. We miss playing hide and seek even though she never changed her hiding place. We miss her Pebbles Flintstone ponytail. We miss her “Owie-boo-boos.”
I miss sitting with her as she napped every afternoon.
But she is safe, and we are safe and in these unprecedented times, you have to be grateful for the little things. I am most definitely grateful for one grand little thing in particular. Can’t wait to FaceTime again.
Jill Pertler is an award-winning syndicated columnist, published playwright, author and member of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists.