Today is my Paw’s birthday. Tomorrow is my Maw’s.
When I was a baby I couldn’t say “grandma” or “grandpa” but I did manage to work out “Paw” and “Maw”, and somehow and it stuck.
The funny thing is that, these southern genteel grandparents of mine with hillbilly names, are the furthest thing from backwoods and backwards you can get. They are proper and smart and funny and full of life – even in their 80’s!
They have loved me with wild abandon, always encouraging, always supporting. I cannot express how much they mean to me or the ways in which they saved my heart time and time again. What they have taught me about living life could fill a book or two.
But the cold hard fact is that we don’t see them nearly enough (even though they only live an hour away.) So today we are trekking to the village to see them to make them a birthday dinner and a birthday breakfast and let them enjoy their great-grandkid’s smiles and kisses all they want.
It’s the very least I can do.