I never expected being a grandmother could be so nice. I don’t think there’s anything better than hearing “Gwammy” or “Gammy” (my nom de guerre is actually “Grammy” before it’s changed by 2 year old speech patterns).  Sometimes it’s shrieked from across the room as I walk in the door.  Sometimes it’s coupled with a “hi” as in “hi Gammy” and for no particular reason whenever I’m around.

I have 3 grandchildren: 2 toddlers, who are each 2 years old, and who are first cousins, and one who is 5 months old.

I don’t think there is anything nicer than snuggling with the 2 year olds as we read books or holding the 5 month old as she stares at me trying to figure out who I am in her universe of holders.

In the transition from grief to happiness, they are key players.