I know her. No, I know her. Oh, not like her parents do. They know which cry means what, when it's time for bed, her favorite foods and toy, how to cuddle her and place her in her crib, and how long she can last on errands. I need a crash course in those things on my short visits.
But as I study Ari's deep, dark eyes, delicate hands and flawless complexion I have a sense that I know her completely, as I did my own children. Though I don't, and she isn't. But still. A connection exists that I cannot explain.
I guess it's called grandmotherhood.
And I'm liking it.
Being a grandmother is the best.
I believe it is the only thing in life that is not overrated.
- Marty Norman
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