Grandparents

My grandparents have all been deceased long enough that my memories have taken on that vintage film quality. I remember smells and shadowy faces but nothing is very concrete or very real. Sometimes I think about the kind of relationship I might have had with my grandparents, especially my Dad's Mom, as an adult and I wonder what we would have talked about.

Books. We would have talked about books. I'm sure we would have talked about lots of other things too though.

This week I started a new job. (More on that later.) Sunday night, while eating dinner, my husband's grandparents called. He deferred it until we were done eating. I had gone out to run an errand, leaving him to return the call and fully assuming it had nothing to do with me. When I returned, my husband, sounding only a little confused, told me that his Grandmother had wanted to talk to me. I asked why and he said he didn't know. So I picked up the phone and returned the call.

"You are starting a new job tomorrow- I wanted to wish you good luck and tell you that we love you." And then it hit me. Huh. Maybe that's what it feels like to have a grandparent. My memories of my own Grandmother's voice are fuzzy and, like a dim star, only there when I don't think too hard about it but despite that I was sure that if she was alive today this is the call we would have had.

With the start of a new job, I've also decided to open a new blog and this post will be cross posted on the next adventure in my life - Fifteen Hundred Miles South.