My son, daughter-in-love, and two of my granddaughters came for the weekend.
We all went to my daughter’s church.
All the cousins were able to be together.
They got to see each other again after being with each other the night before.

We all went to an ice cream shop the night before.
I stood back and watched as major decisions were made.
The excitement was palpable.
I watched the young high school students scoop out all the desired flavors.

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It was my food shopping day.
I usually go to the grocery store in the morning.
However, this day, my husband and I went out to breakfast with friends.
I knew that I would go to the grocery store in the afternoon.

Every week, I could easily call my grocery order into the store.
Of course, there are variations, but often, I am replenishing the same items.
I am restocking my pantry.
Mostly, I am buying fresh fruits and vegetables that get eaten far too quickly.

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It was another Grandma day.
I picked up my oldest granddaughter from school at noon.
She is in kindergarten and goes half day, three days a week, and all day, the other two days.
She ran out of school and gave me a big hug, which of course, warmed my heart.

I had a little snack ready for her in the car.
I was driving her back to our house so she could have lunch with Grandma and Pop-Pop.
I always let her choose the music we listen to as we drive.
This day, she wanted to talk, and talk she did…all the way home.

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I have been listening to Louisa May Alcott’s books.
I had read Little Women when I was in school and re read it a few years ago.
Hearing the books, read in their entirety, was a special experience.
Obviously, the stories take place in a different era, but there are many similarities.

Listening to Little Men, Old Fashioned Girl, and Rose in Bloom, I enjoyed the characters.
Women are women, despite the era.
Friendships are deep, when they are based on the things that matter.
Friendships are superficial when they are based on frivolous things.

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This Whisper was originally published on May 25, 2013. My husband’s father died 11 years ago but the memories and the recognition of his service are still just as important.

My husband’s father died last year.
He extensively researched the family genealogy.
We were all given a book many years ago, with the complete genealogy, up to that time.
He told his children that it was up to them to continue the story.

More grandchildren and even great-grandchildren have been born since then.
Each of our homes has this sturdy link to the past.
For my five children it is a priceless gift.

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My little granddaughter just had her fourth birthday.
Her mommy and daddy had a little tea party for her on the weekend.
My daughter and I drove together and brought my other two granddaughters.
The little birthday girl had her cousins, a few friends, and her baby sister to celebrate with her.

All the little girls wore dresses.
It was a beautiful spring day and they began by playing outside.
There were princess figures on the ground, and play tea cups and saucers.
A tea cart, laden with pretend food, was pushed around the yard and patio.

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There are nine of them.
Nine young moms in a Bible study group.
Nine young moms I lead in discussion.
Nine young moms who are in my phone contacts with praying hands next to their name.

We have been together for two years of Bible study.
They all have young children.
If truth be told, the total number of children far outnumber us.
We have all grown so close as our lives are shared.

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My three-year-old granddaughter sat on the front step with her Mommy.
I knew that her little newborn sister was close by.
I pictured her baby sister in the carrier against her Mommy’s chest.
It was a pretty day and they were taking advantage of being outside.

Across the street, new houses are being built.
Apparently, this was wonderful entertainment for a three-year-old.
Her Mommy took a video and sent it to all of us.
My granddaughter was talking as she watched the construction.

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Life as an adult can be so hard.
We know too much.
We see too much.
We hear too much.

Life as a child should be so much simpler.
It should be carefree.
It should be filled with beautiful things.
It should be filled with wonder.

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My two-and-a-half year old granddaughter was here for six days.
Her mommy and daddy went on a Babymoon before their second child arrives in May.
It was a delightful time.
We read books, did puzzles together, and played.

I love to see the imagination of a child come alive.
My three granddaughters are all a year apart.
Each has a vivid imagination.
Each imagination is at a different developmental stage.

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