Happy Birthday, Princess
It is A’s granddaughter’s second birthday today. I can’t believe she’s 2 already. She has no idea that someone a state away is thinking about her, someone whose name she will probably never know. She has no idea that A called me from the road between his home and L.A. on his way down to be there when she was born. He was giddy; I was, too. She has no idea that I half-jokingly referred to her as my granddaughter; so clever was I to avoid the whole child-rearing bit in between. She has no idea that I told A silly jokes for her because as funny as he was, he couldn’t tell a joke to save his life. He told me I’d tell her myself some day. She will probably not remember him, and yet he adored her like the sun. She lit up his eyes and his heart and his world like nothing else. They were already pals. He loved being a grandpa, and he was so good at it. He was going to love it some more when the next one arrived in January. She is going to miss out on knowing a wonderful man who loved her so very, very much. We are all missing out.
She has no idea that someone she’ll never meet will never forget her.