This week, one of our granddaughters celebrated a birthday.  She’s just a little kid.  Birthdays are big for her.  We couldn’t be there.  We Face-timed.  Technology.

My wife and I raised three boys.  As Sue says from time to time, they cut a wide path in our hometown. The boys are grown now.  My hair is white as snow.  There is a correlation, trust me.

The boys left us, one by one.  Young men, always in a hurry,  come back and visit from time to time.

Now, we’re watching three men and their wives negotiate and teach four little girls.  They are excellent fathers and mothers.   The real challenges are ahead.

There’s a lot of potholes they’re going to encounter.  I’m already seeing some of their gray hair.

For me, I’m learning about a new kind of love.  I’m also learning about little princesses, a hand full of dolls and everything is pink with lace.  Boys step on spiders.  Girls scream and run.  I gave one of the girls a doll.  Simple doll.  She spent the day playing with her doll.  She took it to bed with her.  She cried when it was misplaced.

The boys never cried over losing a thing.  At least not that I know of.  Then again, boys learn to hide their tears early.

I can’t help but look forward and think about their lives.  I never thought much about innocence, until the girls started reaching up and grabbing Grandpaw’s hand.  I never thought much about how a grandparent loves a grandchild until I had one to fall asleep in my lap.

Being a Grandpaw is a complicated job.  I see the parents discipline the girls and I agree and disagree.  The rules were different for the boys.    For me,  the little girls can do very little wrong.  I do not want to see the wrong.  I can overlook most misbehavior.

I’ll have less time with them,  I know where I stand on the thread of life. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell them how much I love them and I can never tell them often enough.

No, I do not know what is going to happen in the future.  but I know the years in the past have taken a toll.

I’ll never be as close to these girls as their Moms and Dads.  Yet, I feel like I should be that close.  I was that close to our three sons.  These are my children’s children, there should be the same connection.  It’s not.

It is easy to look at them and say “I love you.”  It’s just as easy to look at them and tell them they are beautiful.  It is not easy to say goodbye when one of us gets in a car to leave.  Or has a birthday 200 miles away.

Little girls named Windham, I love you all.



Please feel free to share.  I welcome your comments and thoughts.  Contact Mike Windham at  You may follow me at


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