My grandson, Ethan Trotman
Grandma Martha & Ethan
Yesterday, I had a delightful, relaxing, even delicious, afternoon playing with my grandson, Ethan, at the outdoor pool of the senior complex where I reside. It was an absolutely beautiful, sunny, warm, day.
I have no point to make.
Just a couple of pictures to share of this lovely, 6-year old boy.
That grandchildren are special to grandmothers and grandfathers requires no discussion. Just want to report that I’m still feeling warm and fuzzy and looking forward to next week when he is likely to return for another swim.
These feelings of heartfelt joy were just too important for me not to note.
I never considered myself an afficionado of “family.” That’s a hard admission to make. The oldest of six children, I never chose to have children of my own and never considered my family of origin a “close” family. Each of us fled the nest, did our things, routinely gathered for quite happy holidays, spouses and grandchildren in tow, until our parents passed on. And then, not so much. And I didn’t really care.
For 7 years, newly arrived in the DC area in 1970, I became a member of another family, with 4 growing up kids, Ron, BJ, Betsy, and Susie. Continue reading