Sharing

Last weekend we attended the wedding of a dear friend.  Jordan and my son, Court, were best friends from toddlerhood through high school before life pulled them in different directions.  It’s an odd thing to watch a once wide-eyed, rabbit-catching, big-idea-spouting little boy turn into a wide-eyed, wonder-filled, love-overflowing groom.  And who can blame him!  His chosen was (and is) radiant - absolutely a show stopper!  I know because I glanced her direction many times.  However, there was another angel in the room that had my more undivided attention:  Elijah. (Sorry, Kay!  I have Granma eyes!)

Not wanting to appear too anxious, I decided to wait until we were seated in the church to grab the baby.  I’m working on being a grown up, you know.  Who knew that a certain friend, who shall remain Wendy, would grab Elijah before I could even get into the pew!  This despite the evil eye I was giving her.  (She saw it – and laughed!)  It wasn’t until the service finally started that she handed the child over to his rightful Granma!  And only then because she didn’t want to be responsible if he started crying in the middle of the service.  Humph.

Fast forward to the reception, where once again, I had to pry my baby-blue from the hands of said Wendy!  I seriously think she should respect her elders – and I am that, chronologically – and proud of it!  Through our joint efforts, though, Court and Christine got a kind of date night (mostly) without children, albeit with parents.  Holding hands, dinner, dancing, Champaign and no bill at the end!  And I learned to share – about as willingly as a toddler, maybe.  But I did it!

Oh, and Wendy, guess who came to dinner last night?  I didn’t have to share him with anyone…