I can still remember her first words to me.
"So you're here to steal my son, are you?"
She was standing there, between two pillars in the door way-- she scared me.
My skirt was waaaayyy too short, my hair even shorter. Her hair in a bun and a dress long, I knew I was in trouble.
I pick up her son, whose name was Danny at the time and we backed out the drive.
"You never told me your mom was pentecostal, I shouted."
"Oh," he replied-- "she's not really pentecostal, just sort of."
Well, you could have fooled me.
Here I was, picking up her little boy-- headed out to do whatever two crazy 16 year old kids can do. God only knows, it wouldn't have made his momma proud.
We've grown.
Her hair is now short, sometimes she'll wear jeans, and I'm madly in love with that boy of hers. It was a rough start and I was sure the devil of a daughter in law-- but we've grown.
We're like this crazy little village of people full of broken pasts and memories. But again, that God of ours- making all things new, He makes it beautiful.
And he's mine, and she's fine and we all walk this road together.
Happy Birthday, Nana.
Much love,
