How Old Are You, Gran?

Hi, Boomers,

This morning at breakfast my 5 year old grandson asked me how old I was. I thought that was a pretty curious question coming from Jordan; however, this young boy has an unusually potent intellect. So his father, my son, asked him to do a little math.
“Before you answer this questions, Jordan, let’s first find out how old I am,” my son asked his son.
“How old are you, Daddy?” Jordan asked.
“I’m going to be 38 on Wednesday,” Jonathan said. “So if I am 38, how old is Gran?”
Jordan gave it not more than a few seconds of thought.
“You’re 60, Gran.”
“Good guess,” he father replied.
I told Jordan I was more than 60, so he began to guess moving up the 60’s ladder. He hit 65 and I said, “One more, genius.”
“Sixty-six,” he giggled. Then he asked, “Do people who are 80 years old still have birthday parties?”
“Of course we do,” I responded.
No matter the age we celebrate the years of living. It’s an important ritual because it marks a another year in the journey of our lives. And we celebrate our children’s birthdays and our grandchildren’s birthdays to stay connected to family no matter what is going on in our personal lives.
Jonathan will turn 38 on Wednesday and it is another milestone for me. He still possesses that innate and quick intelligence that makes him so engaging. By a long shot, he is not perfect, never was and never will be. He has flaws like the rest of us, but his heart is good and his loyalty to family and friends is huge. He still parents me like crazy and monitors my thoughts and feelings when I am in his presence, teases me endlessly, and he still drives me nuts. But I love him unconditionally and cherish the fact that he is and forever will be my oldest child.
Which brings me back to Jordan Mac, my first grandson. I never imagined being a grandmother. It was the most distant of thoughts until 5 years ago. I didn’t know how I could love more children, and I find myself loving my grandsons as much as I loved my two sons. Love is simply magic. Holding my newest grandson, Jude Love, is the most delicious experience, even at 5 in the morning as I am walking the floor with him and trying to make his gas pains go away. We fell asleep on the bed together about 6 am, Jude on my stomach, my head flopping on a pillow and I knew I was in a magic kingdom where pure love exits.
I made a commitment to be with my family for this spring break week, to be living in their homes, watching their children, my grandchildren, because family is the single most important value in my life. Sure, I could have been in Buenos Aires dancing tango as I have done in the past; or I could have gone back to Costa Rica to my yoga retreat center; or I could have worked some more to keep my students happy. Yet, none of the travel or work means anything to me at this moment. Jude Love in my life right now and I want to hold him and watch him smile endlessly and grab on to his first few months with every bit of energy I have.
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