|Christmas 1950 me and my brother's "littlest brother doll"|
All families serve as sounding boards to a lesser or greater degree but my grands are like facing a firing squad of emotion. It's hard to look at them and not tell them what is best for them, what is going to make them strong and happy, what is the truth because I owe them that. But when GK, not so much Ry (and yet), read some of the things I wrote, in her pure unadulterated (isn't that a weird word) straight forward manner, she informed me I needed to make some changes.
|me at my grandfather's ranch in northern NM in 1952|
Okay, so now that the cows have explained how to eat the cabbage, I have been set straight on many subjects. I know on some level I should be taken aback, but to be honest with you and afterall that is what we are talking about here, I am pleased. Not that I got a lecture from a 10 and 6 year old but that they feel compelled to take action and care. Yipee. The funnel that I have been using to cram "nice" into their little heads at night as they sleep is working. Sneaky Oma tactics are afoot.
|me and my friend's Saint Bernard "Penelope"|
I was told in no uncertain terms that my chicken approach to showing my hair and eye were unacceptable and thus the picture of me in my last post. And you know, this morning a sweet soul told me something about my picture that made it possible for me to feel okay that I let you all know what I look like. I have been ashamed of my looks and then the kids with little sweet eyes told me that that was sooooooooooooooooooo wrong and I can't hide from life. Wow, a lovelie and my grands cared enough to make me cry and redirect. With much love, I have to say thanks. And that is the truth. (Said in my best Lily Tomlin voice with a lisp and raspberry).