When I was growing up I had the world's most wonderful grandma. Her name was Jennie Cecelia. She hated her name because when she was young the kids would tease her by chanting , "Jennie Cecelia, I'd like ta steal ya." Grandma was always home because 50 years ago, that's what grandmas did. They didn't work. They made cookies and embroidered tea towels and planted flower gardens and made watermelon pickles. I spent as much time with my grandma as I possibly could. This was easy because she lived less than a block from our house. Now life has played an unfortunate trick on me and all of a sudden, I'm the grandma. I love my grandchildren dearly but don't see a whole lot of them because I'm busy running around the country living my life. Grandparents are no longer sitting on the front porch in their rocking chairs---we have things to do and places to go. Heck, most of the time my grandkids don't even know where I am!
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