Dear Spike:
All day long you've been crying out for "Gak."
Sometimes, in this awkward stage in which you're picking up new words faster than we can keep up with your unique pronunciations, we simply don't know what the heck you're talking about. But sadly, I understand this one...
You want your grandmother.
My parents spent the past 10 days with us, first here in Salt Lake City and then down in Los Angeles, where we all visited your Aunt Kelly. Then, yesterday afternoon, we parted ways between Gates 3 and 5 at the L.A. airport.
I'll admit, I was ready to see them get on the plane.
I love my parents. They're my best friends. And seeing them as often as we have over the past 13 months — after nearly 10 years in which I only got to see them once or twice a year — has been wonderful. But I've also grown accustomed to having a fair amount of space. And, quite frankly, I think I wear on them, too.
You're a different story, though. Over the past few months, especially, you've developed a lovely relationship with your grandparents, who call you every Sunday afternoon to chat on the Webcam and come to Utah to visit you at least once every couple months. (Such is the burden of being a first grandchild — and don't expect any different if you decide to give them their first great-grandchild, someday.)
So it is that you have decided, at least where it concerned your grandmother, it was time for a name.
Enter "Gak."
She didn't seem to mind that the name you chose sounds like the sound you make when you're choking on your morning oatmeal.
And I didn't think much of it until today, when you woke up and "Gak" was one of the first words out of your mouth.
"Sorry kid, she's gone home," I told you.
You looked up at me like I was talking in Farsi.
And I understood. In baby time, 10 days is a very, very long time. You might not even remember a time when your grandparents weren't all up in your Kool-Aid all day long.
You'll see them again in a few months. And, of course, you'll see them on the computer screen sooner than that.
Until then, my little friend, you're stuck with your mother and me.
Love,
dad
3 comments:
How funny. Kindred used to say "Gak" about everything when he was learning to talk, and I thought it was so odd. I'm glad at least Spike has a purpose to her "gak."
I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy and crying at the same time. I didn't think there was anything better than having Spike call me "gak", but now, she misses me and I can hardly stand the sad-happiness of it.
Thanks for offering a mid-week webcam visit. I can't wait to patty-cake and peek-a-boo, even though I'll miss her warm face buried in the crook of my neck trying to eat my necklace. I'll miss that fun little game we played in the mornings with Grandpa where she begins to go to him, then gets too "shy" and again burries her face on my shoulder. And I'll miss all the laughter when we did all sorts of very silly things, just to make her smile and were rewarded with her falling down on the bed in a fit of giggles. Man, I love being a gak!
I am FINALLY getting to a bonding stage with my grandson who is almost two. It has taken awhile, but thank goodness it's getting closer to those "gak" moments.
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