My daughter calls me on the way to pick up my 4-year-old grandson after his first day of Fall classes at his pre-school. She tells me he has graduated to the Rainbow Room.
Nana, I’m in the big kids class now!
That is great.
Lots of new people. Lots of new toys.
Was it fun?
Rowen was wearing crazy pants.
Rowen is your best friend?
Yes. Hey, Nana, wanna go with me and see my school?
Ah, I would love to, but I can’t.
Tell Papa you wanna go with me.
(his Mom interrupts): Nana lives far away. She has to take a plane to get here.
Get on a plane, Nana.
I wish I could.
(his Mom again): As soon as people stop getting sick, Nana can travel to see us.
I went two poo poos in the potty today, Mom.
I am feeling sad that it isn’t safe enough to get on a plane to visit my little buddy or his older brother, whose voice has gone from tenor to baritone since I last saw him at Christmas. I am missing their stages of growth.
If I could fly to you
Across the rainbow sky
I’d scoop you up and twirl you around
Way up high.
If I could fly to you
Across the rainbow sky
My tears would change from sad to glad
With happiness I’d cry.
If I could fly to you
Across the rainbow sky
I’d see your face - my pot of gold
And Never say Goodbye.
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