The following is a recollection of a recent conversation we shared. If Grant's job is to learn how to learn, to learn how to love himself and his fellow man (and his Nana), my job is to help provide a deeper foundation for all that learning. It's a job I cherish with each new day, with each new conversation.
Grant: Nana, what are those lines on your face?
Me: Those are laugh lines, dear; sometimes they’re called wrinkles.
Grant: But you’re not laughing, Nana.
Me: Chuckling. I am now.
Grant: Wow, did you see that? The wrinkles almost jumped off your face.
Me: That would be nice. If you laugh while I’m laughing, maybe the wrinkles will jump on
over to your face.
Grant: Hands on the sides of his face. Nooooo!
Grant: Nana, maybe you shouldn't laugh.
Me: How do I let you know I am happy?
Lots of hugging.
Me: Hugging is good.
Grant: I get wrinkles in the bathtub.
Me: Is that so?
Grant: Uh huh. When mommy gives me a bath, my fingers get wrinkles. They feel funny.
They make me laugh.
Me: Laughing is good.
Grant: Do your wrinkles make you laugh, Nana?
Me: No, but wrinkles and laughter go hand in hand.
Grant: Examines fingers. My fingers don’t have wrinkles anymore. Sad face. I wish I had
my wrinkles all the time. I could make everybody laugh until their wrinkles jumped
Me: Yes, wrinkles can be a source of pride for a life rich with laughter and loving and fun.
Grant: I like fun, Nana. Why don’t I have wrinkles all the time?
Me: Because you’re just learning how to have fun.
Grant: How will I know when I learnt all the fun, Nana?
Me: When the wrinkles appear all over your face and not just on the tips of your fingers,
you'll know almost all there is to know about loving and laughter and fun.
Grant: Do wrinkles hurt, Nana?
Me: They don’t hurt, but some people have a problem with wrinkles.
Grant: What people is that, Nana?
Me: Some people who don’t have wrinkles like me have a problem with people who do
Grant: Do those people have a problem with fun, too?
Me: Could be; they might be afraid wrinkles mean the end of fun.
Grant: I’m afraid of the dark.
Me: You won’t be by the time you grow your wrinkles.
Grant: Okay. Can you chase me now, Nana?