Sometimes memory takes better photos

We took lots of pictures when we went to visit our daughter, Beth, and her kids recently. The pictures I treasure most are the ones not shot with a camera.
The first full day we were there they took us to the beach. I have no idea where this was. We had her boyfriend's children with us and it was impossible to all fit in one car. My daughter drove our car with the girls and her boyfriend had a truck full of guys ranging in age from 18 months to 61 years.
Emma, my daughter's girl, and Paige, Beth's boyfriend's girl, sat in back. They found a box of pretzels and proceeded to designate it as bamboo. The two "pandas" devoured all the "bamboo" before discovering the animal crackers. Apparently our "pandas" weren't as picky about their diet as wild ones are.
My first treasured mental picture is of them asking for more bamboo, please.
The next picture is on the beach. Paige and Emma are making snow angels in the sand. I had forgotten little girls could get that dirty.
Also on the beach is a mind-picture of Emma sitting in the sand beside her momma as a wave comes in and pushes her three feet closer to shore. Her laugh of sheer joy was unforgettable.
There are also pictures of the boys. Nathaniel, Beth's boyfriend's son, is stroking my hand as we take turns reading from his library book. "You're soft," he says.
Another day Jacob, my daughter's youngest, woke up from his nap and went into Emma's room. The first time I checked on him he was playing quietly. The next time I went back he was in the top bunk with Emma, sitting there as happy as could be.
I asked,"Are you supposed to be up there?" giving him the evil eye.
He grinned as Emma replied, "No." Then he patted Emma's hair and laid his head on her chest. I guess he thought if he looked cute I wouldn't make him get down. He was wrong.
In addition to children there were miniature horses. Two of them. We took them for a walk one day. It had been raining on and off and everybody was getting antsy to go outside. Emma and Jacob climbed into the stroller so my husband could push them. They both giggled as he tilted the stroller backward. I took the more skittish horse and my daughter took the calm one.
All went well until we were almost back to her house. They heard a kitten crying in the underbrush. Of course, it had to be rescued. My daughter extracted the soaking wet kitten and declared it to be a Manx as it had no tail.  
Emma claimed it as her own and named it Bob. So far so good. Then my daughter slapped her side to get everybody's attention. My horse panicked. Its front legs became tangled up in mine and after a few tense moments in which I was convinced my death would be caused by a miniature horse named Fuzz, we both regained our balance and walked safely back home.
There are other pictures, of course: a sleepy Jacob standing in his crib in the middle of the night clutching his blanket and sippy cup as he begs to be brought to bed with us; Emma cleaning wood shavings off a horse that rolled in his bedding after I had just brushed him; Jacob patting Emma and playing with her hair when she fell asleep in her car seat; Emma feeding Jacob part of her banana; Paige decorating my husband with jewelry; sword fights with Nathaniel; Beth cradling Emma and declaring that she loved her so much; Beth holding onto Jacob so he could sit on the horse. And the most poignant picture of all: my daughter hanging over the gate with tears on her face as we drove away.
None of that is documented on film.
I suppose I am too sappy about my daughter and her family. Isn't moving away and creating separate lives what we are expected to do?  
Then I read about the new trends of having multiple generations living under one roof. About 6.6 million U.S. households in 2009 had at least three generations of family members, an increase of 30 percent since 2000, according to census figures. When multigenerational is more broadly defined to include at least two adult generations, a record 49 million, or one in six people, live in such households.
We aren't quite ready for that yet. I still believe it is best for children to learn to manage on their own without parents hovering constantly.
Having said that, I really do miss watching my daughter and her boyfriend take care of the children. I miss the concern on my husband's face as he brings Jacob to bed in the middle of the night. I miss the quiet. Apparently where they live the car owners have sense enough to turn their radios down so they don't rattle windows several blocks away. I miss baby hugs.
We just got back from vacation and all I am left with is pictures in my mind.[[In-content Ad]]