Nico and me
Oh, I know what this means to you, a bragging grandmother talking about her grandchild! No, this post is not about his alertness and cuteness, his wonderful smell, his smiles, his singing along...
It is not even on the way he recognizes me after an absence....
What I will tell you is how my grandchild Nico has invaded my life, and my dreams, and everything I do. Just walking through Barnes and Noble, I scour shelves for books he may not already have, toys he can begin to appreciate, mobiles he can engage with.
....I will not tell you how as I walk and sing to him, he sings back; his head moves toward me to see my lips; his legs push up and down in rhythm with the beat of the song....
I will tell you how I move differently when I cuddle and rock him; how I stand firmer and taller because I want to make sure he's well supported; how I sing made-up words about what life is like the minute we're together; how we burp after a meal; how happy we are to recognize each other; how we dream long dreams about each other; how strong our legs are; how everyone around us, new or old discusses and appreciates every little change they see.
Nico does not know this now: His smile are just the vitamins I need to live two more decades; to see him through kindergarten; to see him through high school. He'll tell his girlfriend, as they walk down to pick up their diploma:
"That lady there who can't stop smiling at me, she is ninety years young!"
"That lady there who can't stop smiling at me, she is ninety years young!"
