Grandma Henke

My baby, Kim, is thirty-one today. I never would have dreamed when I held that 4 1/2 pound, 16 inch, premature little baby girl that she would some day be one of my best friends and confidantes; that whenever we spent an afternoon together we would laugh until tears ran down our faces at things that really weren’t all that funny in retrospect. I never dreamed we’d trade clothes, books, advice, and recipes. I was thirty years old when she was born. Who would have thought that my tiny bundle of joy would actually have four beautiful babies of her own when she that same age. Not me … those thoughts never crossed my mind as I cuddled and sang her lullabies and thought of the miracle of birth.

Happy Birthday Kim! I love you!