Something very unusual is happening in my life right now and I’m not sure what to think about it. Do I like it or not? I’m used to living alone and doing my own thing. It’s been that way with me for years … at least 15 of them and counting.
Perhaps, I should back up a minute and tell you a little bit about myself, or rather, my status in life. I’m a new grandmother. There, I said it … the word “grandmother.” My grandkid calls me GB, which is shorthand for Grammy B. should back up a minute and tell you a little bit about myself, or rather, my status in life. I’m a new grandmother. There, I said it … the word “grandmother.” My grandkid calls me GB, which is shorthand for Grammy B.
I always thought if I was one, I’d be the coolest grandma alive. I’d drink a little wine, smoke one of those skinny cigars, and give free advice about anything from love and marriage to raising kind children. In my mind, I’d have just right the figure to wear the latest clothes. I’d know all the words to the latest blues, hip-hop, or pop songs and be able to dance to them too. I don’t know why I thought about that last part. I’m clumsy, left-footed, and I’m tone deaf too.
So anyway, when my kid turned twenty-five, I thought, I’m going have me a grandbaby while I’m still young enough to get on the floor and play with him or her. Alas, that was not be. My kid’s twenty-five quickly turned into thirty and thirty to thirty-five, then to forty. Oops. Let’s back up again. At thirty-nine, my kid had a kid. At sixty-nine, with creaking knee bones, hands that don’t grip as well as they used to, and retired for three years, I finally met my kid’s kid. She’s a humdinger, as my own grandmother would say if she was still on this earth.
I watched my grandkid use her mother’s cell phone to scroll down and tap on Netflix to watch a movie called Sofia. She knew how to lower the volume on the movie or raise it. She knew how to pause the movie or skip to the parts she liked. She played the same movie over and over or she selected another movie she liked.
I consider myself fairly computer literate, but this kid has me beat by a country mile. She knew how to go into Y-Tube to find kiddie movies too. Her mother didn’t like that too much and took the cell phone away. Her mother said there were too many other things that weren’t PG, that three-year old might bump into on Y-tube. Yep, I said my grandkid is only three years old and she knows how to use a smartphone better than I do. Imagine that, huh?
I doubt very much if I’ll be that cool, dancing, cigar-smoking grandma of my imagination. More than likely, I’ll be the lady with the salt and pepper hair who limps a bit on bad knees, who doesn’t own a smartphone but can answer almost any question my grandkid asks. Or I know how to find out the answer. And one more thing, I love my grandkid with a passion and huge heart.
Thanks for reading.
BL Wilson
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