Old Fools Journal: Thirteen going on Twenty Something

Please excuse the blatant use of this public publication for personal business. I am wallowing in self pity brought on by our forced separation from one of the few people in the world I give a shit about.  I didn't put this together very well but when I think of this delightful young lady I get all fuzzy headed and stupid. 

Dear Amanda,
It has been over a year and a half since your grandmother and I have seen you and since letters and packages we send you mysteriously disappear and since you parents seem indisposed to even talk to us this appears the only way to at least get a letter out there that you may someday see.

I don't know why they will not talk to us as they were more than willing to when they needed us. They somehow see us as a threat but I wish them nothing but the best. I wish them the best because they are yours.

In the beginning we were there. I am still holding pictures for you of your very pregnant mother and father's marriage ceremony. It was nice ceremony held in their friend's  backyard here in Houma.  There was a lot of tension that day and I have no idea what that was about but I am glad I was there to take the pictures.  Your mother was beautiful and your father was handsome.

Your mother was talking to us then and according to your gramma she had plenty to say when you decided at seven months that you'd had enough of that indoor stuff and wanted out. You would not take no for an answer. When gramma pointed out to the hospital staff that there was a head poking out of your mom they decided prepare you a welcoming party.

Slicker than snot you appeared two months early and ready to kick some ass. Since you were a preemie we worried for you and of course they wired you up so we were constantly reminded we needed to worry.  You did not, you had come to stay. Neither I nor your gramma regret one second we spent sitting up with you sleeping on us because you were fitful and kept getting wrapped in your wires.  We were afraid you would strangle in those damn things. Some of my most warm memories are of sitting in the rocking chair with you laying on my belly finally sound asleep but hanging on to my thumb at four in the morning.  I would sit there willing you to grow up strong and happy. I would do it again a thousand times.

When you first stood on your own I new trouble was coming. I saw you take you first steps on your own from my rocking chair to the coffee table. Three they were and then the biggest smile that would fit on your face appeared.  Within days you were walking all over the house. Then the running started followed quickly by the jumping.

I am not a heavy meat eater but I gave you your first.  You were cranky and carrying on that day and no one knew what to do including myself. I just carried you around hoping that my big belly would at least be a comfort. You were a good eater but you didn't seem to want any of the stuff you had been eating. Gramma had cooked a ham and I ducked into the kitchen to get a bite from the pot while carrying you.  I offered you a bite and for the next fifteen minutes you ate ham as fast as I could feed it to you.  You weren't cranky anymore.  Apparently you needed pigfat.

Gramma about had a fit when you started on the steps but I didn't.  The steps were soon not a challenge enough so you tried the steep steps to the  upstairs in the garage. Ladders came next but we couldn't let gramma know because she would have a hissy fit. Climbing seemed to be your thing and you were good at it.

Everything that  boys did we let you do. You were definitively a girl but you certainly were not a sissy.

Gramma insisted you start school as early as possible.   We figured out how to go about it and we had some good times. I especially enjoyed our time together going to and from school.

We rode bicycles in the neighborhood starting when you were still on a tricycle.  I put a speedometer on my bike about that time and I could not believe that you could ride a mile on a trike and with a top speed of eight miles an hour. We usually stopped because you wore me out.

Then one day gramma told me to take off the training wheels after which she willed you to ride a two wheeler and so you did. A fixie besides. No brakes just you, two wheels and a fixed direct drive.  Magnificent. Within a month you had ridden every bike there that you could reach the pedals on.

Gramma taught you to swim, jump rope, shoot a gun, draw, make fun of me, climb trees, throw and hit a ball, jump on a trampoline, play hopscotch, draw, color, and take care of the animals. I taught you how to use a knife to cut your food, slice your own cheese, throw a frisbee indoors (I still have the tiny frisbee), con an old man, watch classic movies and other important things. I liked being conned. We both encouraged you to read books which seems to be unpopular these days but at least you know how and have the ability.

Then came that awful day when you dad took you away.  After a month we were allowed to talk to you and get visits but it always seem grudgingly.  Then there was the divorce but through all that we still got visits sparingly.  Then when I took you home in May of 2010 we were cut off. No explanation just cut off.  Your parents will not even talk to us and we don't have a clue as to why.  We have been able to talk to you on the phone a few times and so we think you are probably alright but we know nothing for sure. Now we are reluctant to do anything for fear it will get you in trouble.

This birthday  you become a dreaded teenager but I'm sure you are glad as you seem to like growing up.

We are in good health and I am determined to live until you can make you own mind up about seeing and talking to us.

Happy 13th birthday. We'll have the party later.

I love you sweetheart,
Grandpa

In the state of Louisiana grandparents have no rights regarding grandchildren.