The Big 7-0!

Today my Dad (also known as Grady to his grandkids) turns 70. I didn’t even know he was turning 70 until Mom told me. I choose not to track my parents’ age. People ask me all the time how old my parents are and I haven’t a clue.

Side Story:
My mom worked at the small school that I attended. She started working in the middle school office when I was around 12 or so. The school was small so elementary, middle and high schools were all together. This meant that Jeff and I could not escape her. If we were late to class, didn’t turn in an assignment or tried to impersonate the school nurse (another side story that I won’t share) – she KNEW. The other problem… everyone knew my mom’s age.

Her office was full of windows so that she could see into the hall and monitor us, I’m sure. Someone had decorated it for her 40th birthday. There were signs up everywhere that declared Lordy, Lordy Regina is 40. That was the last time that I knew my Mom’s age. From then on, I blocked my parents’ age from my mind. I know that is pretty silly, but c’mon. Did they really need to display her age each year on the school marquis? Then there was the time that our band director made us go to her office and play “Old Gray Mare” on her birthday. How embarrassing! Anyway, now you know why I stopped keeping track of their ages.

Back to the original intent of this post:
Grady, we hope you have a wonderful birthday! We love you! You are 70 years young. Don't worry, I'm not embarrassed by your age anymore. I'll even cruise Wesley with you on a Friday night. (I wonder if they still do that in Greenville?)

Look at that young man with the brown hair. That is a pretty little baby, too.

Playing with his first grandbaby. She learned very early how to manipulate her Grady.

Hiking with Jonathan means carrying Jonathan!