Make a Gift of the Irreplaceable
She was a girl to catch everyone’s attention.
Her blonde hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. And her blue eyes shimmered with youth. The pink dress fit smartly and matched perfectly with her still pinker shoes.
She slipped her hand into her man’s hand and skipped playfully out the door with her thumb stuck in her mouth. I suspected she was not much more than three years old.
Her grandfather seemed kind. Their conversation was that of only a three year old and one of grandfather age: easy, comfortable and simple. It seemed to me that they were on a McDonald’s date. I know nothing of their story—only what I observed of them from my perch. It was cute.
Most of all, it made me think. I never knew my grandfather on either side of my family. On my mom’s side, he’d passed away in another country long before I would have met him. And on my father’s side, it was alcohol and the miles that kept us separated.
And it occurred to me, what a great gift this little girl with the pink dress possessed: time with her grandfather. How often I need to be reminded in my own life, with my spouse, with my children, to give this gift. It’s the gift of time, and it is irreplaceable.