Ma & Pa

Yes, I call my grandparents Ma and Pa. When I was little I couldn't say Grandma and Grandpa so I shortened it. Pa at times is aggravated by the name as he says he is not some "hillbilly." Unfortunatly for him, pretty much all of the family and my friends call him Pa. He's not William, W.T. or Bill; he's Pa. Moving on. I awoke very early this morning as Jake piped up at 5:45. Then my diva cat, Farrah, had to use her litter box. It's in the garage and that is another story. She's trained and tends to be very good about using it. Well, sleep no longer seemed possible. For some reason, I began to think about my Ma and Pa and my visit with them on Wednesday. I go to their house every Wednesday and stay a few hours. I realized something. I don't hug or kiss them goodbye anymore. I'm not sure when that stopped. I know I did it through high school. I'm pretty sure that I did it after Grayson was born. Was it my early twenties? Maybe that period when I was having a bit of a quarterlife crisis (it was bad and I feel ashamed that I had one). I know it stopped before Jake was born. Why? Did I suddenly think I was too old to give them a hug and a peck on the cheek? I have to remedy this. From now on, I will at least hug them when I leave. Thinking about it, perhaps I thought of my grandparents after watching Jake last night. He kept running to a picture of Daniel's grandparents and staring at it. He would smile and let out a slight giggle. It's not a funny picture just a picture of them smiling back. We now only have pictures and memories to remember them by and maybe, just maybe, I want to have the best memories possible of my grandparents. They're Ma and Pa. They're my Ma and Pa. Just something to think about for all those out there that have a Ma and Pa or Mama and Poppop or Mam and Pap or Mi and Pa or Mimi and a Pop or Grammy and Pappy or Nana and Papa or your traditional Grandma and Grandpa (I'm not faulting you for your lack of creativity). A kiss or a hug won't kill you. You'll be happy you did.