Fully vaccinated, I was finally able to see my sweet grandbabies, three year-old Brooks and one-year old Maisie. It was pure heaven. 

I flew in late Thursday night, and perhaps one of the moments I’ll cherish the most, was Caitlin jumping out of her car, clutching me close, and sobbing. It felt a bit like I’d risen from the dead. Of course, I cried right along with her, holding her just as close.

When I came up from the basement the next morning, Maisie took one look at me and ran to Caitlin, burying her head between Caitlin's legs, clutching her tightly, taking shy peeks at me. After all, she’d only seen her Nana on FaceTime. But Brooks was clearly happy see me, he came and took my hand in his, eager to take me on a tour of “Louisville”— he refers to their house as “Louisville” and everything outside of it as Kentucky.

He asked when Papa was coming. I told him he’d come after he got his shot. He is a little obsessed about the shots, knowing several people had needed them before they came to visit. 

“If I went far away from Louisville, would I need a shot to come back to Louisville?” he asked. So funny how his little mind processes everything. 

Caitlin wasn’t feeling well, so after the tour of “Louisville,” she went to lie down and left me in charge. I had brought hundreds of stickers with me and got Maisie so interested she didn’t even cry when Caitlin left the room. Her surprisingly adept little fingers had no problem peeling off the stickers and pressing them firmly on to a piece of paper. She even starting saying, “tickers.”

Brooks quickly grew bored with the "tickers,” so I read him a book. I dare say, no one reads children’s book’s with as much exuberance and drama as I do. But Brooks likes to study the illustrations, especially the expressions on the character’s faces, trying to decipher their emotions. “Why does he look mad?” Why does she look scared?” “Why is she laughing?” 

After Maisie grew tired of the tickers and Brooks the books, I came up with a new game. I found a big box and a bed sheet. I put the box on the bed sheet and had Brooks climb into the box. I grabbed a handful of the sheet and ran to and fro across the wood floor, spinning Brooks on each turn. Since Maisie had transitioned from crawling to outright running, she held a piece of the sheet and ran along with me. Oh the laughs and giggles this “game” evoked. Is there anything more gratifying than listening to children laughing? They wanted to do it again and again and again. Just as I was about to tell them Nana needed a break, Caitlin came down and announced it was time for their naps.

Putting down Maisie was simple enough: say it’s time to go night-night, take the now crying Maisie upstairs and put her in her crib.

Brooks nap-time routine is a much lengthier process. First, I rock him as I read a book. I think that’s it. But no, now we do a Bible "study"and read a story from his Children’s Bible Story Book.

“You’re so tired, maybe we should skip the Bible story,” I suggest.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s just not how it’s done.” Too funny!

I take the giant Children’s Bible Story Book and scan the chapters, looking for the shortest story. “Elijah and the Widow.” Easy-peasy. Nana will break down each paragraph into one sentence.

It’s poorly illustrated (to say the least) and with Brooks penchant for determining emotions, I know there will be questions.

The story begins with God instructing Elijah to tell King Ahab that there would be a great drought and famine in the land and many people would die. Nana’s version: “God told Elijah to tell the king there wasn’t going to be enough food for everyone for a long time.” 

Next page. Not so fast, Brooks turns it back. “Why does the king look like that?” Honestly, the drawing depicts such an angry, red face it’s downright scary.

“Because the king didn’t love God,” I answer before turning the page. 

Nana’s version continues, “Elijah found a woman and her little boy and asked if he could have some of their food. Even though they barely had any food they still shared it with Elijah. And because she was so nice to Elijah, God gave her free food for the rest of her life."

I try to close the book. Not so fast. “Why does that little boy look like that?”

I study the freaky illustration and try to come up with an answer. The little boy is looking at the food with eyes that are literally bulging out of their sockets. I try not to laugh. I tell Brooks that he’s just very, very excited to eat the food and quickly close the book before he can ask any more questions.

“Now, you lay down with me and we sing songs.” Really? Will there even be time for a nap?

Sadly, Brooks knows the words to more hymns than I do. I suggest “Jesus Loves Me,” thinking at least I know that one. We sing it together and I stand up to leave.

“That’s not all there is!” he says indignantly. 

I’m pretty sure “second verse, same as the first” isn’t part of his lexicon so I lie back down beside him.

He sings the precious words of the second verse. He hits every note perfectly. Honestly, he has such a gift, I could listen to that sweet little voice sing all day long.

I kiss him goodnight. “Nana? Do you want me to help you with the last part?” 

A third verse? Who knew? Of course I do. He sings the last verse in a whispery voice and my eyes well up hearing him hit each note, each syllable so clearly. The fact that Caitlin taught him these words that will be imprinted on his heart forever makes my heart surge with pride and joy.

I'm so enthralled with them, I could just sit, watch and listen to them all day long. There’s so much more I could share, so many more funny Brooks’ stories, so much more about adorable, happy Maisie, how much it meant to me that she was reaching for me within hours—letting me kiss her sweet neck and cheeks until she couldn’t stand it any longer, but I’ll end with the last verse Brooks sang for me--words I never learned but hold so much truth and comfort.

Jesus loves me, this I know,

as he loved so long ago,

taking children on his knee,

saying, “Let them come to me.”

(I discovered this song was penned in 1859--- more than a 150 years ago!)

(I learned these sweet words were written in 1859, more than a 150 years ago!)