The fourth of five!

I wonder if you will recall, dear readers, that I mentioned on the 4th of November that five of my eleven grandchildren were born from the 4th to the 12th of November?  And today is the birthday of my grandson, Grant.  He lives in Arizona right now and I haven't seen him since last Christmas.  As I journaled this morning, I wrote of/to him and how much I miss hearing from him.  I remember, when I was in my early twenties, how I assumed that everything would pretty much stay the way it was; that I didn't need to pay attention to how the days speed by and how time just seemed to stretch out endlessly in front of me.  It didn't take such a long time to figure out that that is not the way it works - people come and go; events come and go; passions flow and ebb; all part of the circle of the journey of our lives.  Let's make a deal, shall we, to remember, each day, those we love and tell them so. 
In the class I am attending on "Year to Live" at Common Ground, one of the parts of the process is to write letters of appreciation to those who have impacted our lives, no matter how large or small.  Each time I pick up a pen or pencil to write, I am reminded of a dear teach at Thomas Jefferson Elementary School in Glendale, California by the name of Mrs. Wendt.  She taught penmanship and, as I am left-handed and was instructed, as we all were, to place my paper angled toward the left side of my desk, started out writing with my wrist bend over.  This dear lady was progressive enough and patient enough to place my paper the other way, angled toward the right side so I could write with my wrist relaxed and straight.  It took months and months for anyone to be able to read my writing, and, finally, it did come together.  Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you, Mrs. Wendt!  You live in my heart and memory!  Thank you!
Thanks for it all!