The Treasure of Family

Rylan on our back yard swing.

My grandson Rylan lived with me for a couple of months this summer while his mother taught two religion classes at BYU. Rylan always smiled at me when he woke up in the morning and he gave gentle love pats while he hugged me. He called me Gaggy. He jumped on my bed at night and raced around the house during the day exploring the world with the energy only a one-year-old can muster. Even though he is back in Pennsylvania my daughter says he still asks for me.

I haven't wiped off some of the finger prints he made on my french doors because they remind me of him. They are like fragile ghosts of his tiny hands.

Some people think that a mansion on the hill, gem stones and foreign travel are the rewards of success and old age. I think the reward and success and old age is a life-long sweetheart that still makes my heart beat faster, children grown to fine manhood and womanhood and a house full of sticky, noisy grandchildren to love.

My love song is this  . . . You are my diamonds, my  exotic travel to foreign lands and my mansion on the hill. Everything that makes my heart sing is you.
  
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