A Light for My Path

I talked last week about my grandchildren and how the two girls are always up for a challenge. They seem to be intrepid – courageous in the face of a challenge or potential danger.

Over this past week I took a road trip with my youngest granddaughter, who’s ten. She’s a fun traveling companion. She endured some long hours on the road; although we did take frequent breaks for Chick Fil-A milkshakes. We spent four nights with my brother and sister-in-law in Memphis. Their adult son was also there for a weekend. They each spent some individual time with her, a luxury for the youngest of four siblings. We went horseback riding, navigated a tree-top rope adventure, attended a huge family reunion, visited the Montgomery Zoo, and stayed several hours at an indoor rock-climbing facility (at which Grandmama’s feet remained firmly on terra firma). She definitely demonstrated her intrepid nature on this trip.

I thoroughly love spending time with all my grandchildren. One of the benefits of retirement is I have time to give them individual attention. And also, to be available to help out my daughter and her husband and let them have some much-needed time away as a couple.

The only thing that put a slight mar on our time together was that I kept calling my granddaughter “Rachel.”

I don’t know why. It’s not something I’ve done before. My granddaughter doesn’t look like Rachel when she was ten. Their personalities and demeanor are very different. My sister-in-law even called her Rachel a couple of times.

My granddaughter was sweet about it; she didn’t call me out or correct me. I apologized and she graciously said it was okay. But I know it made her uncomfortable. She was only 17 months old when Rachel died. She doesn’t really remember her; she knows her only through pictures and the stories we share about her.

We all want to be known for who we are. Our individual traits, personality, talents, and even our quirks. Like my granddaughter, Rachel was the youngest (with four older half- and step-siblings on her dad’s side). She tried hard to make her individuality apparent. She pushed boundaries sometimes.

Rachel also loved to spend time with her nieces and nephews. She would be so proud of this intrepid 10-year-old. And she would most likely tease her forgetful mama for calling her by the wrong name.

I sure do miss her. Maybe that’s why I’m prone to name-calling.

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Laura