Today is Thursday and when I woke up to Nola's little voice I was feeling very tired - I just hadn't slept that well. There appears to be no reason for not sleeping, when you are 52 it just happens at times. As I rolled from the white blanket that I use as a pillow (I like the texture of it), Nola hops up in the high bed with me, and "twirdy" is not far behind. I ask her "will you share "twirdy" with me"...
with a little bit of hesitation she searches for "her corner" and then hands me the other side.
Some people may wonder what is "her corner"?
Remember the day when we used to say "it's my little corner of the world" referring to our home, or a special space with in the home.
Well, it is the same with "twirdy", he has a corner that is more worn than the others, it is "Nola's corner", and it is not shared with gramma's, momma's or anyone for that matter. It is her corner of the world. She smells it, bites on it, and rubs it gently under her nose and on her cheeks... it is quite soothing for her. So, who am I to say anything about it? After all I have a favorite blanket also!
When we get up to have breakfast and face the day with all that is ahead of us she tells me that" today we are going to Summer to visit baby Asrandra." Indeed we are going to meet Lindsey and Cassie - I write it down the name Asrandra - I don't want to forget it. She says it with such precision, this girl knows what she is talking about. I call for her saying "little Ms. Bugdal... oh little Ms. Bugdal". She quickly informs me "hey, I'm not Ms. Bugdal, my name is Nola Jean Bugdal... remember?" I admit it to myself - I love it when she informs me of her name, and I do sometimes try to think of something to call her so she will correct me.
After breakfast we sit down in the living room to catch a little "Curious George" while momma loads up the car to head to Summer and then home. Nola Jean sits on my lap with her multipurpose pocket calendar. First she says, "Gramma, I will read you a story" The calendar opens to August, the first words she reads are "Once upon a time" . It appears she isn't sure the rest of the story as "Once upon a time" is repeated over and over as she reads me her story. After our once upon a time is over, she tells herself (loud enough for me to her), "I am going to write a memail to my daddy, gramma do you have a pen for me?"
Well, I get her a pen, try not to do anything to upset this moment, she takes it gently from my hand and proceeds to write memails to daddy. As I watch her silently, she appears to be in deep thought...
she is not sure how to spell the words that she wants to tell him, but a gramma knows that what she is writing is so important. If she could I believe she would write...
Thank-you daddy for life.
Thank-you for providing for mommy and I by working hard.
Thank-you daddy for my twirdy, and my round face, for your hand that is bigger than mine, for safety and warmth in your caring. Thanks for showing me how to dance, for wearing capes with me and helping me to grow and learn. I am your hope for the future, and you are mine.
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