When we visited the grandkids last weekend, I had one really bad moment. I was sitting on their living room sofa when I heard a person in the front hall say in a derogatory tone, “Who’s the old lady?” I’m not sure whether he was dropping off a kid or picking one up, but he must have peered into the living room and noticed someone with gray hair. There was only one possible candidate filling that description—me.
Jeremy told the visitor that his parents were visiting, and the guy was gone before I could have a look at him. But even when Jeremy and Katrina explained that he has made inappropriate comments before and offered their deepest apologies, it didn’t make the statement less hurtful.
On the other hand, when I gave our ten-year-old grandson Leo a big hug and told him he was an awesome grandchild, he didn’t miss a beat before replying, “You are an awesome Grammy.”
And when we checked in for our flight home and the lady at security asked me to remove my shoes (being over 75, it is my privilege to leave them on), I protested. She replied, “You have the most beautiful skin. I didn’t think you could possibly be that old,” I smiled all the way to the gate.
On balance, it was a good quote weekend.