From her first birthday two years ago to the one we celebrate today, this little girl has been the icing on our cake whenever we see her. For Pretty and me, she is the gift that keeps on giving.
Molly’s first birthday cake (2023)
(maternal grandmother Gigi laughs at Molly’s first cake experience)
when you’re three years old, you can use your hands
big sister Ella and Mama Caroline help with gifts as Daddy keeps watch
Molly consoles her best friend who wondered why none of the gifts were hers
what could possibly be better for a party than the 2024 bounce house?
(two-year-old Molly and four-year-old Ella in their bare feet had fun!)
a petting zoo in the backyard!
the goat was in charge of gymnastics
Molly, Molly, how much do Nana and Naynay love thee? Let me count the ways – too many to count. You are priceless.
Thanks to Pretty for establishing our annual Memorial Day weekend tradition and to our favorite daughter-in-law Caroline for collaborating with Pretty on invites, venues, food, fun, festivities every year when we pack our bags for a vacation in the upstate of South Carolina in the Blue Ridge Province of the Southern Appalachian mountain range. Guaranteed good times, but never forget there is a Chief Worrier in the group, and that would be me.
This year we had two major worries: the oven from hell in the kitchen of our Airbnb that refused to turn off Saturday afternoon when I placed Pretty’s vegetarian lasagna on the top rack of its preheated 350 degrees to cook for 25 minutes. To my horror the oven door refused to open at the end of 25 minutes or for the next twelve hours, the oven continued to bake throughout that time, and my Chief Worrier self kicked into high gear by suggesting we call 911 for the Fire Department at nine o’clock Saturday night – wherever the Fire Department might be for Hogback Mountain. Thank goodness for our calm son Drew who staged an intervention, urged me not to panic, talked me off the ledge on Saturday night, assured me the door handle was cooling, until the oven door finally opened Sunday morning. Repeat: Sunday morning.
Sofia (left) and Molly waiting for breakfast while Ella and I raid refrigerator
three-year-old Sofia brought her big sis Lily plus her parents Bryan and Nicole for the weekend
(they were all a great addition to the mix)
Sofia, Ella and Molly play on the beach at the nearby lake
how do you say salamander?and what are they anyway?
an unresolved mystery until Papa Williams (Pretty’s father) called to say
without salamanders, but her favorite new saying was
Go Away!
Go away, Neena and Naynay – but when we got up to leave, Molly would get up, too,
and say, I go with you!
The window seat in the living area of the Airbnb was a favorite spot for the girls.
she thinks she’s the only one who can have a Unicorn
that Unicorn belongs to me and only me, says four-year-old Ella
oh, man – make her give me back my Unicorn – I’ll trade for sunglasses
ok, let’s trade
just kidding – I’ll keep the sunglasses and the Unicorn
Remember I said two worries? The second one came when we were leaving Monday morning in the midst of a very strong storm on the mountain. Winds actually blowing ferociously, rain pouring on us as we carried our girls and belongings to the cars. I knew my Chief Worrier needed to be summoned when normally calm Drew shouted, Be quick – we have to get out of here – there’s a tree down on the road! Our little caravan of three vehicles left the house in a hurry on the small gravel road we had to use to come down the mountain. Not far from the house a power line was down across the road which meant we had to turn around and take a different direction. Whew. My nerves were a wreck by the time we reached Landrum where we met Papa Williams for lunch.
Guaranteed good times, you bet! High drama an unexpected twist in 2024! I wouldn’t trade sunglasses or anything else for the time with family and friends this year. I’m grateful to the service members who made the ultimate sacrifice for us to live in a free country where we can celebrate their memories in special ways on Memorial Day.
God bless the United States of America, and God bless our troops.
One of my paternal grandmother’s favorite euphemisms when she became exasperated by the ignorance of someone who had trampled on her last nerve was “he didn’t have any more sense than the man in the moon.” Ma’s euphemisms were more like proclamations that I took to be absolute truth, which meant I had little regard for the man in the moon of my childhood. Yesterday I saw him through different eyes.
Nana and I took care of our two young granddaughters, four year old Ella and twenty-two month old Molly, while their parents enjoyed a day of food, friends and college football. Activities had been fast and furious for the girls – Nana and I had struggled to keep pace, but late in the afternoon they settled outside playing together in the sandbox where unfortunately an argument over a pink shovel caused a meltdown by Molly which sent Ella scrambling to a small hammock swing nearby. The next thing I knew Molly had climbed in the hammock with Ella (Nana gave her a leg up), and both of them were laughing while Nana pushed them, twirling them around like a ride at the state fair.
As twilight came too soon for the girls who cried Nana, go higher, go higher I had a Thanksgiving moment for these three: my wife who shared the past twenty-two years with me and the two little girls whose lives added another dimension for our family.
Finally, Nana stopped swinging the small hammock, and Ella jumped out of the swing. Hey, everybody, I see the moon, she exclaimed with delight. Naynay, come see the moon, she insisted. I left my chair on the deck to do as she told me because that’s how I roll with this four year old. Nana picked up Molly to stand next to Ella who pointed to the moon for her younger sister. Molly said moon, moon while her face beamed brighter than the moonlight.
I told the girls a story about a man in the moon, but the man I saw with them through their eyes was a kind man – very smart – who simply stayed in the sky to watch over us. Why? Ella asked. Good question, I replied.
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“The oak trees were alive with color in the midst of the evergreens. Bright red and yellow leaves catching the sunlight as Daddy and I walked through the brush early that Thanksgiving morning. The smell of the pines was fresh and all around us. We didn’t speak, but this was when I felt most connected to my father. Nature was a bond that united us and the gift that he gave me. And not just in those East Texas woods. He envisioned the whole earth as my territory and set me on my path to discovery. In 1958, this was remarkable for a girl’s father…Perhaps, though, it is the love and closeness of those family ties that leave the sights and sounds that last a lifetime.”(from Deep in the Heart: A Memoir of Love and Longing)
Thanksgiving blessings to you and your family from ours in South Carolina
How old are you, Ella? my friend asked our granddaughter Ella. Ella looked at me. I looked at her. Tell her how old you are, Sweet, I said. Ella appeared disinterested in the question, almost as if she were thinking why are the elderly so concerned with my age – can’t they show more curiosity? No one ever asks me what I’m thinking about, for example.
I’m 4 October, Ella finally replied.
(which was her interpretation ofwhat we typically say her age is:
she’s 3 but will be 4 on October 1st)
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Overheard at bedtime last weekend:
Nana, why can’t you come live with meand Molly and Daddy and Mama? Ella asked.
Oh, darling, Nana has her own house and has to take care of three dogs and Naynay, too, Nana replied.
Naynay can take care of the dogs, Ella said.
Problem solved.
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Molly and me watching Wimbledon– I miss them both
Pretty and I acknowledge and embrace our adoration of our two granddaughters Ella and Molly. We realized when Ella was born we would become the typical grandmothers who think their little girl might be the cutest, smartest and funniest child ever. When Molly was born, we were sure they both were.
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Following a week of Vacation Bible School at Lolly and Pop’s church, I asked Ella if she knew who Jesus was. She said she did. I said well, good, tell me and Nana about him. Nana was in the front seat driving the car. Ok, Ella said and then came the slightest pause. She tilted her head slightly in Nana’s direction and said hmmm…Jesus was somebody that…hmmmm…(long pause)…he had…hmmm…he was really…hmmm… Naynay, I don’t know anything about Jesus.
Number One Son Drew and Pretty Too Caroline along with their daughters Ella and Molly treated Pretty a/k/a Nana and me a/k/a Naynay to a Mother’s Day brunch Saturday at the Luzianna Purchase restaurant in Irmo, the second year in a row we have had that family fun there. Hm. I think I smelled tradition when we were eating, but possibly that was the aroma of the best French toast I ever had. Everyone enjoyed the food – I sat next to fifteen month old Molly whose little teeth allow her to taste whatever looks inviting which, for her at this moment, is everything.
Naynay, can I please try your French toast?
Three and a half year old Ella lost interest in our conversations but never loses interest in her Nana’s phone. Endless entertainment for her although her parents, ahem, prefer limited cell phone viewing. Honestly, where does that child get her phone obsession, Nana and Naynay?
Ella took this photo of her mother usingNana’s phone
At some point during brunch, Ella asked us if she could come to our house when we finished eating. Of course, the answer was yes so she came home with us for the afternoon. The energy level picked up steam when the tornado that is our granddaughter mixed with our barking dogs who announce but try to ignore her presence. Although the afternoon sun was warm with temperatures in the mid 80s, the pool was still too cold for jumping in so Ella had to settle for playing with her toys which we have had on our screen porch for her (and now Molly) for the past three years.
The girls have tons of toys at their house, but when they come to our screen porch they make their own outdoor games with empty pill bottles, bandaid boxes, a tennis ball, homemade wooden car, a green frog that once croaked but the squeaker gave up, and a box of cards that can be admired but too difficult to open. Ella created elaborate stories while she filled the pill bottles with pool water from the shallow steps to make “pretend” sodas for us while we kept watch. She also was happy to carry cold water bottles and peanut butter crackers to the two men who were working on replacing the wood on our deck. Busy, busy, busy.
I told her we were so happy to have her visits but I was afraid there’d come a time when she would have her own friends to play with and she wouldn’t be interested in visiting her Nana and Naynay. She looked at me and said with all sincerity, “When I get bigger I’ll have my own car and can drive to see you.” End of story…
By far the highlight of Ella’s time with us was when Nana took her to the front yard and let her run back and forth through the sprinkler before we loaded her into the car for the trip to take her home. She loves water as much as Pretty does, and she squealed with laughter, with delight, with the pleasure of getting soaked and announced this was her best time ever and didn’t I just love what she was doing?
Of course, I said yes.
our beautiful Mother’s Day gift from the kids
Pretty and I appreciate our family time and understand how fortunate we are to love and be loved by them. We also know Mother’s Day can be a reminder of loss for other mothers, daughters, sisters, grandmothers – losses that leave vacuums in our hearts. I remember a hymn that went something like now the day is over, night is drawing nigh, shadows of the evening steal across the sky. For this one day let the shadows bring us comfort and peace with the possibility of love to fill the vacuums.
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Slava Ukraini. For the mothers and their children.
I'll Call It Like I See It 
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