The blog has been a little quiet lately, and I apologize. The holidays have been busy and I've been working hard on interviews for the book. (By the way, I need more women to share their stories of being the child of divorced parents. Email me if you'd like to volunteer.) I've also got a couple of other writing assignments I'm working on, houseguests in and out, my regular full-time job, and I'm looking for just the right puppy to adopt. Welcome to January!
Over the holidays, we made a trip to New Jersey to retrieve some furniture and whatnot from Gram's house. She's in a nursing home now. She and Grandma C. are the only grandparents I have left, which feels really odd. When I was born, I had both sets of grandparents, three sets of great-grandparents, and a great-great-grandmother--that's 11 grands! (I have a really cool picture, which I'm too lazy to scan and post right now, of five generations of Steakleys--hunched-over great-great-grandma Steakley on one end of the sofa, and teeny newborn me cradled in my dad's lap at the other end.) I lost great-great-grandma, and three of my great-grandparents when I was little; but I acquired a whole new set of grandparents when my mom remarried. True, one was a pudding-stealer, but still they were grandparents, and grandparents are cool.
So this is officially "hug a grandparent day." Even if you've got a lot, they won't last forever. Hug 'em while you can.
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