Some may have arrived at the conclusion that I tend to spoil my grandchildren,  I would suppose that such an assessment might be valid.  In my defense though allow me to state clearly that I do (or at least try) not to interfere with their parents or so overwhelm them with my presence that that alone may serve as a hinderance in their respective homes.

Most of my spoiling comes in the form of availability and doing things with them than in the giving of things.  I rarely give gifts beyond the usual special days and events and then try not to overshadow anything the parents might give at the same time.

For several years I have devoted my saturdays to the older boys, either for them to simply come and hang around or for us to do something special together.  Now that I am retired I have even more time to devote to spoiling them in that regard.  I am fully intent upon making that my avocation for the forseeable future. 

The other day I took my oldest, Nathaniel, out to dinner at Edna's favorite formal restaurant.  He chaffed a bit at the thought of having to wear a jacket and tie, but he looked quite dapper in proper dress despite his protestations to the contrary.  I decided that at fifteen he is quite old enough to experience and appreciate some of the 'niceties' in life.   After dinner we went to a show at a local theater to watch a local production of Henrik Ibsen's A Dolls House which I have always enjoyed.  The amazing thing was that he  understood the underlying message of the play despite the cultural differences between Ibsen's time and ours.   It does still seem to resonate however.

On the way home he asked me why I had chosen that particular play to see when the local theater group puts on a different show every few weeks.    I told him that when his grandmother discovered that that particular play was on the group's schedule for this summer she made me promise to take her to see it no matter what.   She had just been diagnosed at that time and we were unsure how many months she had left to enjoy, but I promised.   As it turned out of course she passed last october, so in order to fulfill my promise I decided to take Nathaniel, her joy.  He was always her favorite and she made no excuses for it.  Oh yes she loved them all, but for her Nathaniel was always first and foremost.  I don't know to what degree the others old enough to understand knew of this favoritism, as she made every effort to  give them all equal time and affection.  It was just that when she held Nathaniel in her arms, she held him just a bit harder and longer.  Whenever he entered the room she would perk up, even in her final hours.  He was truly the light of her life (along with myself of course)

Well he understood the significance of that commitment and my choice to include him in her stead.  He remained silent for the large part the rest of the ride home.   I knew there was something cooking in his little head, but I let him be to work it out on his own.

When we arrived at my place he went directly into the reading room where Edna and I spent most of our evenings together reading, talking and dreaming together after the evening meal.    Nathaniel went to the wet bar and poured a brandy for me and a ginger ale for himself.  He then came over to me, handed me my drink and sat down in Edna's chair which up to this point has only been used by him since her death.  "I think this is my favorite chair." he said,  "I hope you don't mind my sitting here."

I couldn't hide the tears.