I'm back
from
As you may recall, we flew over for Christmas to meet the new grandkids.
I've drug my feet writing the email about the trip because I get so choked up. But I'm ready.
"Grandpa". That's what they called me in their little Irish/British accents. Even Charley (who's 1 and a half.)
One and a half.
Anybody remember when your age was a single digit?
It's amazing how much we evolved from ages 1 to 9.
I tried to think of those times before I met the grandkids so I could see myself from their perspective and perhaps act in some way that would be an inspiration for them....some memory that would get them through the tough times ahead.
I remember thinking of my grandparents as my staunch allies and protectors from all evil. Sometimes even more reliable than my parents, who seemed to go off at the least provocation.
My grandparents could intervene with my parents and perhaps avert stern discipline, at least until I got home. They were like a good PR person plus attorney.
The trip from the airport was quick. Before I knew it I was walking up to my new grandkids. Chloe as the only one awake.
Chloe, the 5-year-old girl, giggled when I first hugged her hello. Later, she would draw a sketch and then I would draw a sketch. Back and forth. Twenty times.
Jason, 4,
woke up first. Jason carefully builds little worlds that are perfectly balanced
and stable. He couldn't stop smiling as I carried him. His enthusiastic mind is
constantly trying to bring order to a disorderly planet. We built cabins,
barns, corrals etc. from the
Dillon, 3, woke up and ran and hid under the covers. Then, he came out and stood on his head. Then, hugged his Mom and stuck his fingers in his mouth as he said, "HELL-OOO" in a quiet Irish brogue. Later, as I proved to be not a threat to him, Dillon reassumed his enthusiastic, joyous self and I came to know his unstoppable determinism (sort of a smiling bulldozer). Of course, he regularly drives through Jason's perfect worlds and takes the train underneath the bridge instead of OVER THE TOP of it !!!
Charlie, 1.5 years. Very easy going. Quietly munching his food as the three-ring circus goes on around, over and under him. Charlie has very few problems in life. He has a simple agenda. Sleeps, eats and smiles. Asks for a diaper change if it seems to be offending the adults. Just starting to use the play potty. Says "Grand-Pa!" with amazement.. Like in the movie "Miracle Worker", Patti Duke (playing Helen Keller) when she first connects water with the word, "WAT - er!"
Okay that's the light stuff.
The heavy stuff? Here we go -
It is Dec. 22nd. We have bought the Christmas tree. We bring it back to the hoose. We are decorating it. We notice the children are magically glowing with excitement and wonder. I mean first trip to Disneyland times ten.
They are asking a LOT of questions like "Can I put this here?" "I don't know where this goes, Mummy (holding up an ornament)."
It's as if they are assembling a puzzle and they've no idea of what it should look like. I ask Kelly about this.
Kelly, my daughter (now their Mom), tells me she asked Chloe about this and found out the children have never decorated a Christmas tree before. Never had a Christmas tree.
My. My.
So, I lifted Chloe up on my shoulder and steadied her as she put the star on the top of the tree and felt glad that I could be of help to some kids who have missed out on a lot of things so far, but you'd never know it. They have loved their way through it all. Love can be an armor, too.
Later, when the kids were in bed, we had champagne and a late dinner. I made a toast. Best I could come up with was, "Children are God's opinion that the world should continue."
My new grandchildren gave me so much. I flew to England to inspire them and they inspired me.
Well, I'm back in America. Sort of ready to work, but really missing them and their unbounded energy and undentable love.
So, call
me with a big project so I can get my mind off these four little spark-plugs of
love, who aren't half way to ten. I'm much easier to work with than ever
before. And I want to buy my next ticket to
Love,
Fletch
