Visit with grandchildren is remembered

It looks like Santa will keep on guarding the lilacs for awhile longer. I had shoved him into a large flowerpot after Thanksgiving. Apparently the metal icon likes it there as the soil is frozen around his stakes and won’t let go. He is the last Christmas decoration left on display. I am thinking of decorating him for Valentine’s Day.

It is wonderful to see the sidewalks for the first time this year. I dearly love the variety of seasons but tire of the cold quickly. Even though it was damp out today, I took a much needed walk. I have been hibernating and it felt wonderful to breathe fresh air.

I am missing the grandkids. We have been home for a few weeks and the feel of tiny hands “healing” all our pains via a broken plastic dagger is fading. Actually the healer in question was one of their cousins. She was the same small child who rode the mechanical bull at Santa’s Wonderland when we went with the extended family. After the healing ceremony she threw her hands into the air and began a chant that only she could understand.

I miss the laughter of granddaughter Emma. I was reading a story to her (“The Purloining of Prince Oleomargarine”) and on at least two points in the story she laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe. That kind of laughter is contagious and I had to stop reading until we both settled down. Then when I read the first line on the following page, she would exclaim that it was the strangest book she had ever heard and the giggles would start all over again. After we finally got through it, she told me she had to get her friend to read it, too.

This last visit to them was the first time we were allowed to sleep alone. On previous visits, at least one and sometimes three children would appear in the middle of the night asking to sleep with us. While neither of us missed having tiny sharp elbows poking us awake, it was a sign that the kids are growing up.

Time is a funny thing. When we think of the grandchildren, the first picture that comes to mind is when they were infants or toddlers. It seems like yesterday that they were small. I don’t think of Emma as being only a year away from being a teenager. Neither do I think of Jacob and Nicholas as being in third and first grades. Jacob currently has a dinosaur obsession and plans on being a paleontologist. When I was his age I couldn’t even pronounce the word, much less define it. Nicholas is heavily into art and bread making, but who knows how long that will last? They are growing and changing every minute of every day. At least they aren’t stuck in place like my Santa. I remind myself that they are only a phone call away.

When I shoved a metal Santa into a flowerpot I was not thinking about the coming winter cold. Now that the sidewalks have reappeared and temperatures are predicted to be above freezing for a few days, perhaps Santa will consent to come inside. Or not.