Last week my eldest grandchild married. It was so odd that as I watched him at the altar waiting from his bride to come down the aisle, all I could see was a little boy with a mischievous smile holding a baseball bat under one arm and a book under the other.

My daughter Dawn, his mother, put together a “letters to the bride” book. Friends and family wrote letters of welcome, advice, and good wishes to Stephanie, his bride. I thought I would share the one I wrote to her with you.

Before Ryne was born, of all things, I worried about being called “Grandma”. Being rather young for a granny, I’d feel weird when hearing myself referred to with that term. After he was born, of course, I fell in love with that beautiful baby boy. But I still surveyed every grandmother I met to see what their grandchildren called them. I wanted a younger sounding alternative.

One day, right after Ryne began to walk and talk, I came in from work. It had been a miserable day. Aggravated and tired, I tried to balance my books as the key decided to not enter the keyhole smoothly. Entering the long hallway with several books crashing to the floor, a smiling Blue Eyed Angel ran towards me yelling, “Gam-ma!” That did it. I embraced my new status as Grandma. It no longer mattered what I was called. That little guy encaged my heart forever.

The day would come when we would have to share that all encompassing love with a girl who would lay claim to his heart. I knew I would have to selflessly share him but I also knew I was going to be quite critical of his choice. She would have to be the perfect match for my Ryne.

Through the dating years, I was unimpressed by the candidates: some pretty, some smart, some friendly, some not. But Ryne never really seemed to find that just right fit. I breathed a sigh of relief. But I did wonder if he would ever find that girl who really loved him for all his wonderfulness and equally for all his imperfections.

Then a couple of years ago, he brought you to my house. You seemed to fit in right away. You were lovely and sat and visited with us. You felt like family. Could you be a possibility? How did Ryne feel about you? Boys don’t share those things with moms and grams like girls do. Then as we watched you in the pool playing with the myriad of kids, Ryne looked at me and said, “Isn’t she just so sweet?” What? Ryne had never called any girl he was with “sweet”. That’s when I knew that in the not too distant future, there would be someone else to call me “Grandma” And you know what? I couldn’t be more pleased. Ryne has found the only girl in the world who is the perfect complement to a Grandson I adore. Now there is another “Grand” to adore. Welcome to my heart.

­­­­Grandma Judy