Phoebe, Just Phoebe

It isn't hard to understand why I have been so focused on my two granddaughters this particular week.
In the aftermath of this nation's most horrific tragedies, we hear and see stories and photos of the twenty beautiful children who became the latest victims at the hand of the child of another mother.

The tiny victims were so close in age to my sweet and innocent grand babies, most of them we're told, no older than seven, the majority, only six years old, first graders.

But this is not about sadness and horror.  That has another place in my heart.  This little post today is just about Phoebe.  Phoebe Grace Colket.  Sweetness in a tiny package.  My own Velcro Monkey.  Our family Baby.  The Second Child who is preparing herself for her very own place in life, living in the shadows of the First Child, her sister Lucy.  Two children of the same parents, amazingly different in looks, spirit and personality yet both very capable of totally stealing the hearts of grandparents and great grandparents, not to mention their own parents.  Youngest member of the Abraham Lincoln fan club.  Ask her anything about him and you will be amazed and fall in love if you haven't already, when the discourse begins and the tiny mouth and big bright eyes reveal wisdom beyond years. Kiddie puzzles outgrown a long time ago.

Again, I'm back to Phoebe.  Tiny wonder.  Blonde hair.  Blue eyes that will never be anything but true blue.  Blue eyes that are the only trace of her Italian heritage.  Eyes she acquired through a strong gene that has come to her from the beautiful mountains deep in Abruzzo, Italy. When I look at those plates of blue, my heart skips a beat, knowing that there was a great-great grandmother who would have cried with joy each and every time she saw our Phoebe, wearing her eyes.  A brilliant mind. Always thinking, way ahead of everyone else. Kind and considerate, that's Phoebe.  We already have a catalog of precociously kind words that she has used at the exact right times in her life and she's still only not quite five.  Kisses on the telephone.  Delicious.  Phoebe. Easily bored with the mundane.  Never tired of the brilliance.

I often think that Phoebe is a direct descendant of a high-order angel.  Both babies were sent from Heaven but this one.....she remembers being there, I swear she does.  She's a lightweight but a true heavyweight in the spiritual world.  How could she care so much about her great, great grandfather who she affectionately calls "Louigi Porco".  She knows where he is and she knows that one day, she'll find him first.  He must be thrilled when she talks about him as if she has sat on his lap.Maybe she has. She tells us that it is very sad about Louigi because he is "dead".  The secret is hers.

Merry Christmas Little Phoebe and an extra special hug from Louigi.  He wants you to know that you don't have to worry, everyone there is okay and smiling right back at you. xxxooo