GrandMuMMinG Monday

     Sleepovers.  What precious memories.  Grampa is impressed how my ear catches each sound and I bolt to attention ready to assure the cries of a precious one.  It's that "mom" hard wiring that is still present.  I love singing sweet songs like "Hush Little Baby" and rocking in the rocker like I did for so many hours as a mom and as a child.  An overstuffed rocker with a padded arm is essential.  My leg or my arm still drapes across that generous padding, my head cranes back.  A tiny tipping of my toe keeps our rhythm as we relax totally in the chair, bundled in a comforter or two.  When we rock now, I smile and remember what it felt like as my mom rocked me for countless hours, assuring me of her watch care and love.  I feel it, those moments over fifty years ago.  Judging that moment to rise and lay you down in your bed here at Grampa's and GrandMuM's is tricky.  A few trips back to the rocker may be in order, but that comfort of restful peace will come.  Then, I love the exuberance of morning.  I love sharing precious moments, usually over Grampa's pancakes, just us three.