Category Archives: Grandparenting

Travel Time, Part I

Posted on by

Although Nate always dreamed of having the freedom for extensive travel, I’ve always been happiest at home. When the two of us would go away, he couldn’t squeeze in enough sight-seeing, but walking back through our own front door was always the highlight for me.

Now, however, I have grandbabies. Although I’m getting “up there” in years and going away offers its inconveniences, spending time with these little ones has brought a new dimension to travel. Today Jack and I are on the road, headed south to meet up with two year old Skylar, one year old Micah, their parents, others of my children and all of my sister’s family. We’ve rented a couple of condos in the Florida Gulf.

My travel buddy, Jack, rides like royalty sprawled out on the back seat as we clock our 1425 miles together, visiting friends along the way. Our mostly-empty vehicle reminds me of many a crowded car trip with children jockeying for their fair share of space. Without the benefit of seat belts or car seats in the early years, personal boundaries were loosey-goosey and hard to define.

Just like every family, we always over-packed, pulling out of the driveway loaded to the ceiling. Then car-top carriers were invented, and we bought a tan plastic model from Sears that could have doubled as a giant McDonald’s burger box. It didn’t do much for the wind-flow around our station wagon but held seven full-size suitcases. Although it was a beast to load and unload, it cut down on passenger over-crowding and, by that, on parental insanity.

Driving from Chicago to Florida in March is to travel through three seasons in two days. But when northerners glimpse that first palm tree, it’s like walking out of a blizzard and into a botanical garden show. Winter ends and flip-flop season begins.

One of our many family drives to Florida was particularly memorable. We’d purchased our first mini-van and were excited to break it in together. The car-top burger-box was old and worn by this time but still worked well. As usual, it was crammed full of both soft and hard suitcases.

Half way to Florida we were gassing up and buying candy bars when I noticed a sign for a $2 sit-in-the-car wash. Since we’d started our journey on Chicago’s snowy, salty roads, the new van looked old, and none of us liked that. So as Nate walked into the gas station to pay, I said, “We’re gonna go through the car wash!”

Forgetting all about our carrier, the kids and I sat up straight while the automatic treads pulled us into the tunnel. Massive brushes and thick carpet strips quickly smothered us in bubbles.

Suddenly there was a tug on the van, followed by a mysterious racket behind us as the carrier straps snapped and the car wash brushes knocked our box off. Because of all the suds, though, we were oblivious.

At the end of the wash, our clean van sat sparkling in the sun just in time for Nate to see it as he came from the mini-mart holding a coffee in each hand. I was smiling, but he was not. “What happened to the carrier?” he said, looking at our rooftop.

[…to be continued]

“Don’t begin until you count the cost.” (Luke 14:28)

Yakety Yak

Posted on by

One of my greatest joys while in Florida staying with Adam, Linnea and my grandchildren is listening to Skylar Grace talk. Although she’s only 2½, she has the vocabulary of a six year old, using words like project, celebration, cherish and included. Amazingly, she uses them correctly in complete sentences.

If Skylar is conscious, she’s talking. When we’re available to interact, that’s her first choice. If not, there’s the one year old Micah as her audience. If she senses his interest is straying, there are dolls and stuffed animals. She also talks to stones, cups in her play-kitchen, bits of paper, just about anything.

This little girl has something in common with every radio host: she avoids dead air. Her moment-to-moment modus operandi is to keep the words flowing. Her parents patiently participate in the never-ending conversation, but surely there are days when Skylar’s forceful voice wears on them.

As for me, I’m just the visiting grandma, loving every single word. When I call Linnea from my home in Michigan, I hear Skylar’s chatter in the background and crave talking with her. She gets on the phone with me and chats like a mini-adult, and when I hear her, it makes me long to be with her. This week, my wish came true, and we’re talking face-to-face.

My six other kids are getting a treat this week also, courtesy of Skylar. Each night as I post this blog on Facebook, I send a separate message to them entitled: “Skylar Quote of the Day.” Yesterday’s quote came as she intentionally and repeatedly fell backwards into a low ditch near the house. When Linnea asked what she was doing she said, “I’m working on my issues here.”

Today when nap time brought quietness to the house, Linnea and I shared a late lunch and talked about talking. We agreed it’s easy to say more than we should and both feel regret over times when we’ve said too much. Not only have we caused hurt, but our yammering has forced others to be silent. Unfortunately, just like toothpaste out of a tube, words can’t be put back where they came from.

But how can we stop ourselves from over-talking if that’s our tendency? Scripture has the answer: “The kingdom of God is not a matter of talk but of power. What do you prefer? Shall I come to you with a rod of discipline, or shall I come in love and with a gentle spirit?” (1 Corinthians 4:20-21)

More than likely God will discipline us if we keep talking too much, and none of us want that! To help us practice quietness, the Bible describes a perk we’ll receive if we’ll button our lips: “Even fools are thought wise when they keep silent; with their mouths shut, they seem intelligent.”  (Proverbs 17:28) Maybe that’ll motivate us to listen more and talk less.

And as we practice silence, we won’t have to worry about dead air. Skylar can handle that.

”Be not rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven and you are on earth. Therefore, let your words be few.” (Ecclesiastes 5:2)

Staying Upright

Posted on by

I’m writing from Florida and am here for a very important celebration, Micah Nathan’s first birthday. Our family lovingly nicknamed him “The Tightly Packed” because he’s chunky and wonderfully squeezable. Despite Micah’s pudge, he learned to walk early at 10 months, both plump arms straight out like a balancing pole. Watching him get around is comedic entertainment.

When a baby is learning to walk, he falls down continually. Eventually, though, he develops a toddle, and his falls happen less often. Still, it doesn’t take much to throw him to the ground. But for Micah and other one year olds, popping up without damage is the usual outcome of a fall.

A school child who falls doesn’t pop up as readily. Tears flow, and there might be a need for a cartoon-enhanced Band-Aid. But he, too, heals quickly and forgets his tumble in a hurry.

By the time we’re adults, falls are nearly non-existent. We’ve become good on our feet and sure of our step. If we do go down, it’s quite a crash, and before we get up, we pause to see if we’re hurt. Often it’s 24 hours later that we “see” what we really did through stiff muscles and fresh bruises.

A little over a year ago, when Nate’s cancer diagnosis was still new, he took a fall, the first of three during the six weeks he had left. At the time, we lacked understanding of how extensive his illness was and weren’t sure what made him lose his balance.

Nelson and Klaus, standing three feet away, were alarmed and jumped to help their father. But Nate brushed it off as nothing, embarrassed by what he labeled “a crazy fluke.” Sadly, he whacked the back of his head on the nearby door frame and got a fluke-induced goose egg, but there was no additional damage. His fall was more traumatic to us than to him.

The other day I took a fall of my own after tripping over a lamp cord. No harm was done, and I was glad no one saw me, but it made me decide I didn’t want to fall again. A broken bone, common at my age, would be less than convenient, and I’m making an effort to walk carefully, not carelessly.

If we live long enough, however, none of us will be walking. Old folk’s homes make good use of wheelchairs, and as the Bible says, aged people are sometimes taken places they don’t want to go. That’s because they can’t walk in the other direction.

When that time comes, our walking will have to be done in another realm, the realm of faith. Scripture tells us it’s best to walk by faith in God rather than by sight. The verse implies we ought to be faith-walking throughout life, not just in old age, depending on God’s guidance rather than on what we see.

When we’re able-bodied, walking through life without many physical falls, it’s easier to fall spiritually and not know it. But when we’re in a bed or wheelchair, faith-walking comes more readily. Maybe that’s the best kept secret of old age.

Meanwhile, I’m seeing “The Tightly Packed” walk well and manage life completely by sight, not faith. But it’s ok for the time being, because when he sees Grandma Midgee, he walks right to her!

“We walk by faith, not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:7)