June is finished and here we are into July, already.
I remember the longest day of the year happened sometime in there, but it is a brief memory, like a drop in the bucket kind of memory.
Looking back at the lovely calendar I have hanging on my pantry, the one with the colourful picture of some kind of bird on it, I can see why June was so busy.
It seemed those grandkids had something going on every single day.
My husband and I are, of course, the grandparents. We are not the parents and we’ve been there, done all that stuff with our own three children, so many years ago, it all seems like a distant memory. But, somehow, being grandparents, we have found, leaving us a little surprised, but mostly happy, we get to do it all again.
Ball games, music recitals and kindergarten graduations. How much fun is that?
Hoping to win the ‘grandparents of the year’ award or at least stay in the loop with our grandkids, we tried to attend as many of these events as possible.
And, so we did.
Well, I’m here to tell you it was not easy, but it certainly wasn’t boring either.
And, to add to the challenge of life in the fast lane, my husband gets around on a scooter, or, on some days, in a wheelchair. Therefore, being in the fast lane is often really quite tricky.
Take our grandson’s kindergarten graduation.
I swear every parent and grandparent on God’s green earth was at that graduation. And, of course, we were late. We were late mostly because we couldn’t find the school, a fact I blame totally on my husband.
“Do you know where the school is?” I asked innocently before we started out.
“I think so,” he replied. As it turns out he did not have a clue, not a clue, and, apparently, the map on my phone, didn’t seem to know either.
It was embarrassing and humiliating, in part at least partially, but not entirely, because our daughter is a teacher at that very same school.
We arrived just when they were putting the graduation caps on the little graduates’ heads. Unfortunately, there was no way my husband could begin to maneuver his scooter through the door of that room and even if he could, he would have had to go in front of about three million other parents/grandparents and siblings.
So he stayed in the hallway like he was in detention or something. Another grandson, bored with the whole graduation thing, took pity on him and said, “don’t worry, grandpa, I’ll stay with you.”
Eventually the grads filed out of the room and we learned we all were to go for snacks.
“Nice bike,” some sweet little girl said to my husband in passing. Another benevolent lady insisted he take himself and his scooter into the room where the snacks were being served.
“We’ll get you in,” she said cheerfully.
I said nothing. “Great, how will you get him out?” I thought, but privately, to myself.
A scooter needs lots of wiggle room to turn around, a fact the benevolent lady obviously didn’t know. As it turned out we were there for a good time and a long time. A very long time.
And then there was the music recital for our oldest granddaughter. It was a lovely back yard affair. Once again I was amazed at the number of parents and grandparents who showed up. They covered pretty much every square inch of that back yard, but somehow we squeezed ourselves in, too, scooter and all.
After it was all over, we sat on our back deck with only the flowers and the setting sun for company and the stillness broken only by the occasional sound of birds chirping.
“Sure been busy,” I remarked. “Sure has,” he replied. All we need is a couple of rocking chairs to complete this scenario, I think to myself with wry amusement. And then I think back to all the rushing and the busyness of the last few weeks and I smile because one thing I know for sure.
It was all worth it. Every minute.