Abby All Over Again

The very first summer Abby came to spend time at the cottage with Gramma and Grandad all on her own she was six, and everything was magic.

In later years her brother would join her, then a cousin and a two more brothers, until the cottage time with 'just the kids and no moms and dads' took on a rowdy, wonderful space of its own.  All sensational, and we wouldn't have it any other way, mess and noise included.

But there was something soft and indelible about those first two (I think) years when it was just Abby.

Because....she's Abby.

Our times on the deck so early in the morning, feeding Scout the seagull, and the chipmunks.  I still have the same purple housecoat that used to wrap around us both on the chair in the chill of the morning while we waited for customers.

Endless afternoons hunting for the frogs she was not afraid to hold in her hands and carry safely to the little day habitat we'd built.  Always letting everyone go right before bed.

Stories we made up together, and swims to the shoal, and little picnics down the channel.  She was all cottage confident, especially in the water.  When I complained about not really wanting to climb up and actually go onto the shoal, an awkward heave-ho even before I was a Gramma, she cheered me on.  "Come on Gramma!  I know how to get up there.  Follow me!!"

And in those times, all the Gramma spaces in my soul filled right up.  Just because she was there, so little, so gentle, our sensitive girl with the fabulous imagination, and shoal-climbing super powers.

That first year, when it was time for her to go home again, I waved from the dock until I couldn't see the boat anymore.  Then I came back up to the cottage and had a good cry.

And then this year.

All on her own on the GO Train, with two transfers no less!  Up earlier in the season because in July and August she'll be a working woman, and will not be able to come for the whole family fun.  

So right now, just us.  Like before.  Still magic.  Only she's older and mostly kills her own spiders now.

And she paints.  And she plays Scrabble with Gramma and Grandad.  And she goes out to with a net and comes back with clam shells, because there weren't any frogs to be seen.  And she loves to be here.

And I can't even explain how this is beautiful to me, how beyond gifted I know I am to have this particular human in my life, and her wanting to be here with me.  And I can and will say and feel amazing things about the other four, for sure.  But this time, right now, right here is with Abby.  And it's quite wonderful, and lovely and surprising.  

I'm not exactly sure what I expected it to be like, this Gramma thing, when they were older.  

This is more than I expected.  Much more.

[Pictures and content posted with permission.]