Little Girl Gone (Home)

Last night was difficult for me. I took my granddaughter to the library with me, then took her back home to her mommy.

This is not the usual order of things.  Usually, if I pick her up at her house to go to the library, I take her home with me. It's not anything we talk about, it's just how it works. It will only work that way for another year, at best. Next August she will turn five and have to start school.

"I want to go home with you," she said. She said it when she first got in the car. She said it when she got back in the car after her sojourn at the library. She said it when I pulled up in front of her house.

I hugged her and kissed her and hugged her again and just kept saying "Not this time. Not today."


When I got home the first thing my husband did was look for her. Then he asked why she wasn't there. Then he proceeded, throughout the evening, to tell me how much he had been looking forward to her.

I feel like I let them both down, badly. I hate to do that. Like I said, too soon I won't be able to bring her along as often. (Although I do hope we will someday move closer so it won't be as much a problem.)

Too soon, I'm afraid, her pappaw won't be able to enjoy her company.

I already know it will be too soon that he probably won't be able to be there foir her.

Have I cheated them both out of a memory-making moment?

Well, every moment should be made for memory, although we'd all have our heads so stuffed full of the past that we'd have no room for thoughts of the future, if we all lived that way.

Maybe, just maybe, the next visit will be more cherished because of the visit that wasn't.

Or perhaps we'll sneak off from our ordinary life and pay a surprise visit to her.

Good Deed for the Next Generation.

I've done another good deed for the next generation. I introduced my daughter's not-yet-four -year-old to the public library. A few weeks ago, circumstances made it necessary for her to accompany me to a writers group meeting

Hailey had one question. "Are there toys?"

The meeting was in a room just off the children's section, so it was easy for me to keep an ear and an eye on her.

At first she just sat in a chair with her hands folded in her lap. I came out and showed her the toys, and told her she could play. She said "Okay, Mammaw," and folded her hands and sat in her little chair.

Fortunately there was another little girl at the library with her daddy. The other little girl brought  Hailey puzzles and puppets, and got paper from the librarian  so Hailey could write with the crayons. The daddy got her to play in the castle. (I really had to keep an eye when he got involved, although I knew he was probably harmless. These days, probably just isn't good enough. Sad fact.)

They left, and Hailey worked kid sized wooden puzzles, one after the other after the other. She had them stacked neatly on the table, and the stack was nearly as high as her head.

We left early -- watching the kid and attending the meeting was a little more difficult and disruptive than I had expected.

Today, my daughter came by, and she asked me what happened when I took Hailey to writers group with me. It seems that now, every time they go to town, Hailey hollers out, "There's the berry, Mom. Are we going to the berry? I want to go to the berry."

So, another generation introduced to the magic of the public library.

Now, we just have to keep the libraries open for them.