Her Hand in His

It's been almost two years ago since I rushed to Virginia to see my Dad before he died. He had never met Jedediah, so my sense of urgency to just get to the hospital was overwhelming. I remember trying to contain myself as I waltzed pass the nurses' station into his room. (I knew they'd be coming after me.)

That first meeting was brief, but brief was better than nothing. Jedediah touched my Dad's arm, and that was good. A connection had been made, and though he won't remember it, the story is part of him.

My Mama's here now, and she's held Elijah for the first time, and he's wrapped his younger, tinier fingers around her older, fragile ones. One generation grasping another. 

"Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children."
~Alex Haley