Twelve years ago next month I got a new name. “Nana”. My first grandchild is growing up WAY too fast! It was just yesterday when her mama was twelve, wasn’t it?

A twelve year old girl is an enigma. She shows the world she is made of steel…but she’s actually fragile as delicate crystal. She hates you but she loves you more than her heart can stand. She’ll treat the weakest of God’s creatures with the tenderest of care yet she’ll rip your heart out with her icy stare of utter disdain. She wants you to love her, just don’t touch her or look at her or speak to her or…God forbid….acknowledge your familial relationship in public. If you say “Can you go brush your hair?” what she hears is “You are the ugliest creature on earth!” There is no rhyme or reason to anything she does. She will make sure of that. And, she will make doubly sure you are quite aware of it. She wants you to be proud of her as long as you don’t say it out loud. She wants you to talk to her unless you’re planning on actually using, you know…words. Then she wants you to shut up. She still likes little girl things but she could never admit that.

One more year of preteen. She cried when I left in August. She’d rather chew off her own arm than cry again. But she’ll be back. They all come back. And I surely hope to be here when she does.

❤️

“Those who guard their mouths and their tongues keep themselves from calamity.”

Proverbs 21:23 NIV