Daddin': The Verb of Being a Dad

My granddaughter is brilliant.  Ok, so is yours, but I have to smile at a recent interaction and the perfection of the short dialog.

It has been too long since I held her in my arms, so I was relishing the moment the other day when she leaned back and looked at my hair.

“What color your hair?” the two and one-half year old queried.

“Oh, sweetie, that is gray,” I said.

She smiled.  “And black,” she added.

The years have brought much gray, and I am proud to say that I have earned every single strand.  But her comment was more clarifying than she knows, but such is the wisdom of youth.

As I access the wisdom and perspectives of my sons (31, 27 and 20), and reflect on the insights they have shared over the years, I am now able to access new truth again, in the sweet voice of a young girl not yet three who carries at least some of my DNA.  And so the process continues.