I am deeply blessed.  I have a Daughter named Shika and she has a Dad named Bruce.  I have a Granddaughter named Maryna and she has a Grandpa named Bruce.  There’s nothing on paper, nothing legal … but the emotional connections are real.

Today I accompanied Maryna to a school in Gent where kids learn to speak Russian.  I was going to meet her daughter Nicole.

Imagine twelve boys and girls standing before a crowd of parents, first reciting a poem and then singing a song.  Wide open faces, wide open mouths.  Maryna pointed out which one Nicole was.  I waved … and she waved back!

And then the kids went to their moms, and gave them a handmade card which said in Russian: I love you, Mom.  From [daughter or son’s name].  Tears flowed from mothers.  Hugs lingered.

Next the families painted together.  Nicole saw that I didn’t have one of the small canvases so she brought me one.  The three of us shared paints and brushes.  And time.  And smiles.

Here is my creation, which now sits atop my bedroom mantle:

My family is growing