Right Column Redux: Women in Journalism Movies
Start of February 27 Column. More or Less Continuous News Service since 1998

My Grandchildren: Joyous Greeting

My Grandson
When he hears the doorbell ring, he runs towards the door shouting “Abba, Abba” with a big grin on his face. He hugs me as soon as I get inside.

I have never been greeted anywhere, by anyone, with such open-faced and enthusiastic joy. My wish is for us to have something like that relationship as long as both live.


Robert E. Malchman

I never got a regular enthusiastic greeting, but I do remember the two greatest greetings of my life. 2002, going up to my brother's for Thanksgiving. We pick up Nephew (2 1/2) from daycare. The little ones are all tearing around doing their things in the gym. From across the floor, we see Nephew. My brother yells across, "[Nephew], look who's here." Nephew comes tearing across the court screaming, "UNCAWOBBA, UNCAWOBBA, UNCAWOBBA," and barrels into me with a giant hug around my knees.

No. 1, though is my son (likewise 2 1/2 at the time -- there's something about that age). We're visiting my in-laws in Liverpool, and I do an overnight in London to do work meetings with people I know there. I come back on the train, and Wife and Son meet me at Lime Street Station. I get off the train and am walking to the exit looking around, and all of a sudden I hear, "DADDYDADDYDADDYDADDYDADDY," and Son is tearing toward me. I pick him up, toss him in the air and there are mutual giant hugs. No one, ever, has been that happy to see me.

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