West Cocoa Chat

When we adopted our son Steven, there weren’t too many people more proud or in love with our son than Nanny. Nanny (Jean) was what my son called my Mother. Nanny was one of those Grandmothers that every kid needs. She was Steven’s un-yielding advocate. He could do no wrong in her eyes. She gave him the greatest gift any “Nanny” could give their Grandson; she took care of him at her home until he entered school. It wasn’t unusual for me to drive over to my Mom’s house to pick up Steven after school and catch them in the middle of his favorite activity, a sock fight! Oh do I miss those times.

And as Greg said in his excellent blog the other day, when you lose your parents you lose the source of those special memories that Mom’s and Grandmothers carry with them and preserve for the family. Those of us (like Greg and I) that have been orphaned by death know the sting of this loss.

As I said earlier, Steven’s Uncle Greg has passed on the “sickness” that causes one to lust after multiple and better guitars to my son! Steven is learning on an acoustic right now but he wants an electric and a better acoustic guitar. So he started the “Steven Guitar Fund” as he calls it. Last night he was on a “recon” mission that would have made any Sergeant Major in the infantry proud as he swept our house, vehicles, dirty laundry, and any other animal or person for loose change to put in an empty bottled water container. As he was pouring change into the water container, he noticed a piece of paper at the bottom. He poured all of the change out to get out at the paper because it held something precious to him. As Steven called it, it was “Nanny’s writing.” She had helped him years ago add up the contents in the bottle. On the paper was her precious math. In my eyes were tears as a memory came back to life for a brief moment. Those of you that still have your parents or parent, give them a call today. They won’t be around forever, trust me.