My eldest granddaughter turns 18 on Feb 29th. There not being a Feb 29 this year, we observe her b-day near the end of the month.
This is no longer the little girl I took for her first ride on the merry-go-round1, or who helped Great Grandma Nelson “rearrange” her cupboards, or who, wearing a cute little straw hat, took my hand as I walked her down the concourse of the Wichita airport. She’s no longer the Barney loving toddler, whose eyes lit up, and who said “Barn-bee” when I presented her a stuffed rendition of the purple monster.
Pardon my stroll down memory lane, and waxing a tad nostalgic. Ericka is now a beautiful young lady, more of a world traveller than I’ll ever be2, and who points out websites where Grandma and I can watch TV shows we missed and forgot to Tivo. She is also better at HTML than I am. Far better.
She’s graduating from high school in June; so I can start dreading TSA indignities as we make plans to attend3. But we’re planning to be there.
I’d like to say “Happy Birthday, and make your Grandpa proud.” But that is selfish on my part; it’s her life to live, and if she can do that, remain happy, and be the best person she can be, while maintaining that beautiful smile you see, that will make this old Grandpa very proud indeed.
Happy Birthday, Ericka Nichole!
-k-
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