A Tender Touch

I always visualized living near my children, just around the corner. I saw our home as a sanctuary for our grandkids. Our door would swing open, letting in the fresh air of youth and exuberance. I would drop whatever I was doing to shower them with love and attention. Spoil them rotten. It would be a place for them to escape their parents, and a reprieve for their parents for a few moments of peace. Life doesn't follow my wishes. I live more than 2500 miles from my loved ones. I visit once or twice a year. I fear they won't remember me, or feel the closeness I desire. This past Fall, I visited them for a glorious week of Autumn color. My daughter and the kids came to Syracuse to pick me up at the airport. Due to the late hour of my arrival, the kids stayed in the hotel while Carrie picked me up. Back in the hotel, I crawled into bed with my daughter and the littlest grandson. He stirred in his sleep and she reassured him that she was back. She added, "Gubba's here." He rolled and stretched toward me, reached up so tenderly and touched my face. It's been a team effort staying close. I guess we've managed.

New York

I visit my grandbabies every chance I get. They recently moved back to the North Country, upstate New York. Fall Break gave me the opportunity to visit them in their new home. I love upstate New York, and on my recent visit it presented itself in all its resplendent glory of Fall. I was enchanted with the falling leaves, fluttering in the golden sunshine on a gust of wind. I tried to capture it on a video with my phone-with no success. I was also enchanted with my two-year-old grandson. He speaks in 2 or 3 word sentences and makes himself well understood. What tickled me the most was his response when he is told "no": "OH MAN!" I laugh just thinking about him. Whenever I return home from one of my visits with my loved ones, I regret not having done all the things I intended to do with them while I was there. Then that leads me to a sadness that I don't live closer so that I can be a regular part of their lives. I dream of living just around the corner so they can walk over to see me anytime, and I would always have cookies ready for them...

A Grand Entrance

As soon as school was out for the summer, we headed to New Mexico to visit our grandkids. All day long, my granddaughter asks, "When will they be here?" along with a slew of other questions. The trip takes us about 8 hours, and I think of them the whole time--except while I'm sleeping. When we arrived, there they all were standing at the open door waiting for us. After hugging and kissing everyone, I realized my little granddaughter was no where in sight. "There she is! Go get her!" my husband pointed to a pillar by the house. I took off running across the sidewalk on my 3" high sandals. Cutting through the grass, my foot slipped off the side of the sandal, and I knew I was going down. With nothing to grab onto, I fell face first into the grass, scaring my grandkids half to death. I lay there a minute, breathless, assessing any injuries. I rolled over to a circle of concerned faces staring down at me. The hilarity of it all hit me then and I lay there laughing to cover the pain. Needless to say, I spent the rest of the visit moving carefully around with a fractured rib, gulping Ibuprofen.