Greatest joy comes from time spent with my granddaughter

Probably the greatest joy of my life has been my granddaughter. From the day her mom brought her home from the hospital, we bonded. She fought sleep, and sometimes I'd rock her and carry her until she fell asleep when no one else could do it.

Living next door to us, Morgan and I made so many memories through the years. Often, when I took my daily one-mile walk, Morgan's mother would drive by and Morgan always begged her mom to let her out so she could walk with me. We'd have the neatest conversation — Morgan, mostly doing the talking. I loved to listen and learned everything that was going on in her life.

I'd let Morgan do things her mama wouldn't, like cutting with sharp knives and jumping on beds. We had such good moments when she helped me cook or I watched her twirl around in dresses (she loved wearing skirts when she was little).

Probably the most precious memory was one day when I picked Morgan up at school at the sophomore center. She must have been about 15, just gotten her learner's permit, and I let her drive my car home. I can still see the pleased pride on her face as she drove out of the parking lot in front of her peers. She waved gaily at them, and it scared me a bit as the inexperienced driver swerved my fairly new car. She drove toward home down the main highway and I helped her negotiate the intersections and the lights. It wasn't until we were relaying this to her mom, and she said, "I can't believe you let her drive there," that I realized she'd only been allowed to drive back roads. You'd never have known, as the teenager showed so much confidence.

That's the way Morgan has always been. From the day she began experiencing her terrible twos (which continued for years and years), she always knew how to do everything. Once I found her inside a pickup, where the motor usually set. Her dad and grandfather were overhauling it and Morgan thought she'd help them repair it. She was so proud that her father told her she had good common sense.

The funniest thing was watching her talk on the phone. She's always been a phone person (now it's a cell phone). She'd perch on my chair and throw her legs over the arm as she settled back for a long conversation. When we traveled to Alaska during the summer, I always had to call her once a week and she'd talk my "leg off."

Every year, from the time she was only 11 months old, the weekend after Thanksgiving she'd help me decorate my Christmas tree. After she began talking, she'd pick up an ornament and exclaim with delight, "Oh, I'd forgotten about this one!" One of her favorite things to do was putting on the icicles. Only she didn't put them on one at a time like I did, she'd throw handfuls on the tree and laugh at where they fell. It's no wonder her latest gift to her granddad was a singing Christmas tree. Her dad and granddad would hold her up to place the angel at the top of the tree. To this day, she won't let me throw away that tattered angel.

Now she's all grown up. She has a grown-up job as an assistant to an orthodontist. Just recently she drove me in her new car out to Pinnacle and picked out makeup for me. It looks quite good! She's always been so smart at everything.

Only a grandparent would understand and appreciate this column.

Marie Putman is a former Gravette resident and regular contributor to the Westside Eagle Observer.

Editorial on 12/11/2013