This is an open letter to my grandson Jack. His birthday is tomorrow, so this is one of my gifts to him.
Dear Jack,
I realize this may be embarrassing, but that wasn't my intention. It's just that you are my very first grandchild. And today you are turning 18. It is shocking to me that 18 years have flown by so quickly. As I look back over the last couple of decades, so much has changed for all of us.
When I first heard that my daughter was going to have a baby, I thought it would be a girl. A granddaughter--her name, I was told, was going to be Olivia. It's a beautiful name, I loved it. We were all set to welcome baby Olivia into our lives. I flew out to California for your great-big-gigantic baby shower. It was awesome. Everything was pink and roses and girly. Absolutely beautiful. Funny thing, though--let me tell you a little story, a sidebar if you will. Grandpa and I were shopping for baby gifts one day when a strange thing happened. I remember exactly what went down. We were standing in the baby clothing department in Dillard's. And, all of a sudden, my hand went to a little baby boy's outfit. And for just a slight second--my breath caught. Grandpa, sensing something was wrong, asked me. I said to him, " Don't say anything, but for just a minute I had the feeling, when I touched this little outfit, well, I wished she (your mom) was having a boy. I immediately covered my mouth and made grandpa promise to never utter a word. I felt a little disloyal, you know? And then you came. Surprise! Baby Jack. When your dad called to tell us they had had a baby boy instead of a girl, I didn't believe him. I said — Put your mom on the phone. I knew she wouldn't lie to me. But, sure enough, it turns out a baby boy had been born.
You might have heard this story a hundred times, but I want it on paper. Whatever, you know what I mean. I was waiting patiently for the phone call when your mom went into labor. Your mom had to choose: did she want me to come when she delivered you or afterward to help out? She chose the latter. So, when you were a week old, I flew back out to California, stayed for a bit, and helped in any way I could. Oh my gosh, I remember the first time I held you. You felt exactly like one of my own babies the first time I held them. All squishy, tiny, and a perfect fit in my arms. You felt like you were mine. I loved you intensely from that moment forward. In fact, when I had to fly back home (which I cried the entire flight), I felt as though I had actually given birth to you and left you with my daughter to raise. It felt as if I had given you away. My heart was broken, and I couldn't wait to see you and hold you again. What a special little guy you were. So many people loved you. You were such a good baby, so sweet, and you had such a gentle spirit.
It was a few months before I saw you again. I can't remember exactly, but it was too long for me, and then, something interesting happened. Your dad, being in the Navy, had to ship out. So, I talked your mom into coming and staying with us for a few months. I can't tell you how much I loved that time with you. You both ended up staying for 9 months until you were 18 months old. It was a horribly lonely time for your mom, but truthfully, I loved having you both with me. I showered you with gifts; it was overindulgence for sure, but I didn't care. I loved you so much and just couldn't help myself. You spent your first birthday with us. One day, you'll have to look through those pictures and see the number of gifts that your crazy grandmother purchased -well, I'm not going to apologize. I had fun.
I've watched you over the years, Jack. An old soul for sure. Yes, a true INFJ. I've always known. I guess it was easy for me since I am one, too. I recognized you. You will grow into that knowledge, that sense of self. I promise you. That sixth sense that you sometimes encounter, that knowing...I hope that you study psychology in school, whether you choose it as a profession, well, that's up to you. However, there's nothing wrong with taking a few classes to better understand yourself and others. Just my 2 cents!
As I look back over these past 18 years, so much has changed. I have more grandkids now. I've lived in 3 more homes and 2 more states. I've watched your uncles get married and then start families of their own. I've watched your relationship with your sister turn into a little more of a friendship. Hey, one can hope, right? It will over time. Your mom and uncles fought like wild animals, and now look. Friends, siblings. It'll happen to you, too. Your little sister will one day be your friend. It's weird how that happens, but it does.
So, by now, you might be wondering why I'm even writing a silly old letter. But the truth is, Jack, I wish my grandmother had written one to me. I would have cherished it with all my heart. I miss sitting and talking with her, spending holidays with her, and just knowing she always had my back. And please know this, Jack, I have yours. I always will. I'll never judge you, condemn you, or try to change you. I like you just the way you are, after all, you're my favorite, remember?
I think it's time to start wrapping this up now. I don't want to bore you or get too sappy. So, one more thing, OK? I love you, little Jack. I think you are special. I believe with my whole heart that God has a plan for your life. I, for one, am excited to see what's in store for you. My prayer is that you always remember God's great love for you. And that as you grow older, you will come to accept and serve Him. That you learn to walk humbly before Him, and that you recognize the fact that God will never leave you or forsake you. He's always there, Jack, whether you feel it or not. He never leaves us. And, I pray that one day you have a dynamic relationship with the God that I love.
That, in a nutshell, Jack, is the most important thing to me.
May He always protect you, love you, and guide you. And, may you always feel the deep love of your grandmother until the day that you take your very last breath.
Love, Grandma Penick
