She’s here. Pam has been waiting for her for quite some time. I do not think Pam truly believed she would ever arrive. Nor do I think Pam thought she would be named Portia, especially as I adore that name. Of course, I may never spell it correctly. I mean, Porsche is close enough, right?
Our grandchild, Portia “Porsche” James Powell was born a couple of days ago. Pam has been in heaven ever since. To be honest, so have I. Maturity, mainly mine, has a way of making the little things in life so much more important and enjoyable.
Henceforth, Pam will be Grammy Pammy. Grammy has special significance in our family. Pam’s mom, Sandy, arguably one of the greatest grandparents of all time, was referred to as Grammy. That was her wish. She lived up to it in every sense of the word. Sadly, Sandy passed away much too early, leaving the Grammy legacy that Pam is ready and able to embrace. Pam will be as good a grammy as Sandy.
When the family asked me what I wanted to be called as I entered grandparentdom, I replied, “Gramps!” Then I thought about it some more, and realized that “Grumps,” was most likely more fitting, as on a really good day my glass reaches half empty. Normally it has a slight crack and the liquid just oozes out, making it tough to stay half empty. So I am Grumps, or probably, Grumpy, depending on the day. I do not care. I think it is great.
I spent most of the day working today. Pam left to go to Shelby’s some time ago. I needed to take a break and get away from work this afternoon. So I decided to drive over to Shelby’s, too. Fittingly, I opened the garage and backed my 89 Guards Red 911 Targa G-Body out and drove to Shelby’s, thinking how funny it was to be driving my Porsche to see Portia. It put a big smile on my otherwise grumpy face.