At the girls' birthday party, our Lou Lou got a little overwhelmed. You see, she'd open a present, get so excited, and then we'd take it away so she could open another. She didn't get it, and it made her mad. The poor girl just wanted to play with a toy! By the end of the present opening, she was hysterical. I knew she was suffering from a case of overload mixed with a dash of frustration, so I got her blanket and her binky and tried to settle her down. Suddenly, she motioned to Pop's chair.
Pop passed away when Lou was in my belly. He went by Lew, and that's how our girl got her name. I've always thought Grandpa Lew would've got a kick out of baby Lou, and in truth, I think he does. Just from afar.
Lew used to spend his evenings on this lounger, watching the sunset colors on the mountains and relaxing. If he wasn't inside, he was out on the patio, on his lounger. After he passed, Gram told me that she once dragged that "old broken chair" to the garbage. Only to go out a few hours later to retrieve it. She just couldn't get rid of the place her Lew loved so much.
And so when Lou motioned for Pop's chair, I took her over and laid her down. We visit Gram fairly frequently, and they're no stranger to the patio or Pop's chair. And she settled down immediately and spent the remainder of the party there, by herself, snuggling in the comfort of Pop's lounger.
We miss that Pop. But I'm pretty sure he didn't miss our party. I'm pretty sure Lew was with our Lou, and I'm so grateful.
Many thanks to my sister for sneaking a few pictures of this. They're priceless to us.