follow-thru and follow-up (to last post)
My niece and I met halfway this afternoon — and we did it!
While I wouldn’t say it was pleasant I didn’t cry or throw up. And neither did Yaya.
Emaline, my eldest, said more than once that she was proud of us. Which is a little funny, if you think about it.
Yaya’s mom called while we were at the drug store getting the requisite post-ink ointment. Knowing that she was going to give me grief for corrupting her college sophomore, I preempted the attack by reminding her that she was the one person in the whole family who knew when Emaline took an unsanctioned cross-country trip with her boyfriend when she was nineteen.
(This may have have been thirteen years ago. But long memory.)
She responded that she will be taking my not-yet-here grandboy off for his first earring. (Game on, my friend. Game on.)
Anyway, I will look at my wrist and remember that it symbolizes healing and perseverance and family. And it will make me smile. When it stops hurting.