That is my crazy grandma and my sixteen year old son. For those who just had a baby boy, yes, they do grow in a blink of an eye. Now J is just about 6 feet. He's taller then any of the males in both of our immediate families. He's a genetic anomaly.
Sometimes he it was just yesterday that the hospital actually LET me leave with him. Just yesterday that I nursed the little guy and gave him baths in the sink. It was just yesterday that I watched his first steps, played peek-a-boo, and taught him to ride a bike.
But it feels like a thousand sleepless nights ago too.
Now on to the grandma. She's more like a mom to me then a grandma. I'm an only child and so was my dad, who was murdered at 20 years old in the streets of San Diego. She is a coal miner's daughter. A daugher of the Applachian mountains. She was raised dirth poor and is one of twelve kids. By the time the girls were six years old they had to be at the table making biscuits for a family of fourteen by 5a.m. In school she only got through the 5th or 6th grade. Yet, she's one of the smartest woman you'll ever meet. And fiesty too. When she and my grandfather were in their early years of marriage he'd go out and drink hard liquor and like a fool he'd come home being gruff and one time he tried to hit her. She laid him out with an iron. Knocked him out cold. Taught him two things. Never hit a lady. And do your own laundry.
She's also one of the kindest most selfless person in the world. She's sort of sassy too. She'll tell dirty jokes that will make Howard Stern blush. She has a huge heart and would do anything for you, but she wasn't one of those cookie baking, sweet old lady grandmas.
Here, I took grandma to the family cemetary in Whitesburg, Kentucky. I tried to take a sweet picture of the two. She hates her picture taking and she's threatening to come punch me out.
Sheesh, grams. Behave yourself! And put some clothes on, will ya?
