Gray Hair

Whenever I would walk into my grandmother's house, I felt welcome and valued.  She would stop whatever she was doing and make me the focus of her attention.  Then, she did those little things that made me cared for.  She was retired when I was born, and had the extra time that most people don't have.  She had gray hair, and the best hugs.
I've found myself a bit worn down lately.  I had been doing a better job of taking care of myself, but that has gotten pushed aside with sick kids and responsibilities.  I left the house last night under the pretense that I needed to deposit a check and sell some used books.  I found myself dreading going home because I needed my own respite from being the one taking care of everyone else.  It then hit me:  I know a gray haired lady who is always glad to see me.
So, I left the book store and made a surprise visit to the woman my children refer to as their great-great-great grandma.  I don't see her very much since we changed churches, and I realized how much I missed her.  So I got to sit in her rocking chair and swap stories for a little while.  Her perspective on things was greatly appreciated.  Her kindness was even more appreciated.
So, the lesson for me is that there is always someone around to fill a role.  Sometimes, you have to look a little ways.  Sometimes, it will find you.  Either way, we are all here to be a part of each other's lives.  I hope I don't wait so long to go visit my gray haired friend next time.