I grew up thinking neither of my grandmothers liked me. My limited memory of large patches of my childhood and the few stories I heard from others indicated I just wasn’t a favorite among grandchildren on either side.

In the past few years I’ve begun to discover evidence that I was loved much more than I realized. And while I suppose it’s better to live for 45+ years thinking my grandmothers didn’t dig me and then find out they did than to live that way and then find out I was right, it still discourages me to feel like I lost so many years knowing and feeling and remembering the love of  a grandmother.

I vowed many years ago to be the grandmother I (thought I) never had.

I chose “Mimi” for my grandmother name because I felt like it fit me better than all the others I considered.

Thus far I have two beautiful granddaughters: Morgan is 12 and Rosabelle is 2. They are positively delightful, both of them, and I love them dearly. I enjoy every moment we get to spend together. Morgan regales me with tales of school and cheerleading and asks me a gazillion questions, and I tell her stories from my childhood (the appropriate ones) and ask her questions back to encourage her to think things through. She is pretty good at it, too. She is sharp as a tack and one of the most diplomatic and encouraging people I’ve ever known. Rosabelle is a princess and makes sure everyone knows it, but she has a sweet, loving nature that defies her princess status. She’s got spunk like her mama and tenderness like her daddy and is dramatic and creative and bursting with life. Today she laid her head on my shoulder and patted my back, sighed softly, and whispered, “I love you, Mimi.” Reminded me of her daddy when he was her age.

I ask God every day to keep growing me as a grandmother, letting me understand them better and pour into them (and future grandblessings) the love I’ve always felt like I missed out on as a youngster. Mine is an endless well of love for them, my precious babies-of-my-babies, and I get plum giddy at the thought of how much fun I want to have with them in the years to come. Fun like our mothers have had with our children, cooking and baking, laughing, singing, playing silly games, enjoying one another’s company. Our children were blessed with lovely grandmothers, and I want to carry on that legacy as their Mimi.


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