by Sally Hendrick

“You better lock those doors and windows, ya here?” Grandma pleaded with me. 

“Wear a cap on the highway, so some stranger won’t try to bump you off the road.”

Until I was married off to Robert, I heard something like this every day from my grandmother. Once I was married, she didn’t worry about me anymore.

To a point anyway. 

Grandkids. Wow. They’re like looking at clones of my babies but with a tinge of something else mixed in. Millie has Zoe’s dimples. Jack has Kat’s chin and eyes, and I can’t get over how they all sound alike on the phone. 

I always thought we’d eventually divorce because I figured all men were bad husbands and fathers, but I’m so glad we stuck it out and stayed together. Not much is unforgivable, and having a partner to raise amazing children with, someone who will give them every opportunity and every dime in the bank account like I would is all that really matters. 

To a point anyway.

It’s hard to believe that I get to be seated as the grandmother of the bride this weekend. I remember my grandmothers both being so proud to be at our wedding. I only wish I could be coherent long enough to not be pitied but to be enjoyed in my old age.

“Want to read my stories?” I tell the grandkids.

“Oh yes, Sugar! I just love your stories! They’re the best!”

“Alright. Let’s go make a banana milkshake like Sudie used to make for me, and I’ll read one or two and answer anything you’d like to know.”

“To a point anyway.”

I’d like to dedicate this piece to Judy and Yvonne, two very special ladies who have inspired me to write about new things from new perspectives. To a point anyway.