Abba

Recently our one-and-a-half-year-old granddaughter, Phoebe, blessed me with an “Abba moment.” But it can’t be fully appreciated without some backstory.

She’s been a shy one—especially toward big men with beards. I’m average size, and I don’t usually have much of a beard, but I’m still a big man to her.

So once she was old enough to come over to our house for stays, she clung to Grammy (Rebecca) and mostly tried to avoid me. She leaned away when I approached, even crying when I tried to hold her. Yes, it made me sad.

She came every week, and we tried to help her get past her misunderstanding of who I was—her Grampy—and I loved her. But she was scared. Continue reading “Abba and Ashes (guest post by my husband, Tim Davis, for Father’s Day)”