Grandchildren are God's way of compensating us for growing old.

I wonder about this alot...
Did my grandmother miss her grandchildren as much as I miss mine?
She lived in Canada and we lived in New York.
I have memories of our family going for visits to her home.
I remember the screen door banging shut as we ran to play in the back garden.
I remember the peonies that blossomed in the front garden.
She took great pride in her green thumb.
I especially remember her strict code of 'you eat what you're served'.
Cereal and orange juice.
Eat it!
(Not like nowadays when I say, 'what would you like for breakfast honey'!)
I close my eyes.
I can evoke the smells and sounds in my mind.
My Grandfather humming tunes to the words as he sat learning.
The smell of Gefilte fish cooking before Shabbos.
It's etched in my memory like a permanent marker.
And I wonder...
Did she miss us when we left?
Did she feel bad she missed our birthdays?
Did she wonder like I do, how to make up for not enough time spent together?
The only way for me to stay connected is by scrapbooking.
You guys know that already.
Yesterday was my first grandchild's birthday.
I've made dozens and dozens of layouts about her.

My two babies 6 years ago.
I was a new Bubby.
And a scrapbooking beginner...

She was so tiny.
And now she is SIX!
My mother always says 'Time walks, years fly'
Sounds better in Yiddish!
So when did she get from here............

to here............

I remember every minute we have together.
What will she remember...

“Grandmotherhood initiated me into a world of play, where all things became fresh, alive, and honest again through my grandchildren's eyes. Mostly, it retaught me love.”
― Sue Monk Kidd