Another year has passed. For years I marked time by my daughter's growing, but after a certain point kids are just grown and you are surprised when birthdays roll around and they are suddenly 25 or 30. Now I mark time by my granddaughter. I have lost my identity and taken on a new persona. I am "Grammie".
Today she went out with a watering can to water the daffodils and found that they had all gone. I saw her out in the field crying and went to see what was wrong. Her flowers were all withered up. "Its okay!" I tried to tell her. "They will come back again next year."
It is so interesting to see life through her eyes. I too have cried for many things that seemed as if they were gone forever. Then after awhile they showed up again, sometimes in a new form. Everything in her world is new, and what she doesn't know she expects me to understand and handle. She trusts me, the daffodils will come again. I show her the buttercups, the dandelions, life will go on.
