I started writing about me and JP, my youngest grandson, when he was about three. Who knew what we’d go through together? He and his mom and dad and bulldog, Tank, lived with us for awhile while their house was being built. Tank died while we were all on vacation together.

My husband passed away suddenly from a brain aneurysm and we lost our elderly dogs, too. I sold the house and youngest and I moved in with JP’s family. We eventually found a new, smaller house and youngest and I moved in and recently got a new little dog.

This coming weekend JP turns eight! I can hardly believe it. He’s wonderful—cute, smart, fun, silly, sweet and incredibly kind. Our talks have gotten so complex now.

I usually pick him up on Tuesday afternoons after e-school is done and he comes over to visit and have dinner with me and his Uncle Dave. He loves our new house and visiting with Leia, our dog.

We’ve always had some of our best conversations in the car, when we aren’t singing along with the radio! This one happened as I was driving him home…

JP: Wasn’t it funny when Leia fell in the box?

Me: It was. I think she was trying to see what was inside and just slipped. When I got her out she went and laid on her pillow and didn’t look at me. I think she was embarrassed!

JP: Like when your cat fell off the back of the couch, right?

Me: Yep, Midnight would look out the window to watch for me and fall asleep. And sometimes she’d stretch and fall off the back of the couch. That was a long time ago, I’m surprised you remember me telling you that. I had Midnight before I even knew Papa.

JP: Were you married to someone else and divorced before you met Papa?

Me: No, just him. He was my first husband but I was his second wife. Does that mean I could get married a second time now if I wanted?

JP: But, Nana, you only have two bedrooms. Where would he sleep?

Me: I thought he’d sleep in my room.

JP: (Doubtfully) Well, I guess he could sleep in your big closet…