I was allowed to stay over with them once, when I was about twelve or so. I thought it would be an adventure to sleep in the guest house by myself, but they insisted I sleep on the sofa in their little tv room. In the evening the three of us sat in a row and watched 'Password' and 'To Tell The Truth.' And while it wasn't exactly my idea of a good time, I loved being with my grandma. Plus, she shared her box of chocolates with me while we watched.
At bedtime, I distinctly remember the shock of seeing my grandparents' teeth soaking in the bottom of an ordinary kitchen glass on a little shelf in the bathroom. Their lips looked like they had been cinched tight with some kind of invisible drawstring. And when Grandma insisted on a goodnight kiss - on the lips - I solemnly committed then and there to a lifetime of good brushing and flossing.
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| My 4th birthday. Grandpa's the one in sunglasses. |
I remember Grandpa as a tall, slim man (in contrast to my pleasantly round grandma) who was unyielding once he had formed an opinion. It was kind of dicey at our house when they came to visit during election season. Grandpa, a Republican, and my dad, equally unyielding, a Democrat. Enough said.
Grandpa and Grandma ate lunch out at a little diner every day. When I rode with them in the car they insisted I sit snuggled between them in the middle of the front bench seat. It had been encased in some kind of slippery, protective coating. This was pre-seatbelt days, and some sliding was involved.
Grandpa had this thing about dirt. He was also fussy about the 'air' and had this system of pulling out the ashtray to block the deliciously cool air from blowing directly on me. No amount of politely telling him how good the 'air' felt to one who was used to driving everywhere with windows rolled down in the hot, southern California summers, could dissuade him from this odd notion. Must be where my mother got the idea that we would surely catch a cold from being cold....
When we arrived at the diner, Grandpa carefully parked his car in the clearly marked No Parking Allowed zone, so certain was he that it didn't apply to him. And when a new waitress seated us at a table where, horrors!, I could actually feel the air conditioning gently ruffling my short hair on this 90 degree day, he made us pick up our menus and water glasses and move to a completely different table when she wasn't looking.
I thought I'd just die of embarrassment.
As I look back on it, there really wasn't much to do at Grandma's house. I wasn't allowed to walk on the little strip of dichondra lawn in front of it, or walk on the sidewalk farther than the end of the block. Already a lover of music and having some skill at playing piano, I begged Grandma could I please play her little electric organ? When she said yes, I was pleased. When she turned the volume so low that even I, who was sitting right there on the organ bench, could barely hear it, well, let's just say it quickly lost its appeal.
I think I am now about my grandparents' age, before they sold that house and downsized to another, and eventually moved into a rest home. How life has changed in two generations!
According to the Social Security Life Expectancy Calculator, at my grandparents' age, I now have a life expectancy of about 25 years. And if I make further milestones (a kinder way of saying growing even older) the odds of living even longer increase.
I should confess, I am not one to put much stock in such charts and calculators. I prefer not to measure the life God has given me by actuarial tables. But I do have some thoughts on living my life from this point on.
At my grandparents' age, I want to have brand-new experiences and adventures. I want to embrace the unfamiliar, develop new skills. I want to practice flexibility, and be alert to the world around me. I want to find a way to garden with a back that gets stiff and sore, and make beautiful music with fingers that show signs of arthritis. I want to enjoy good conversations and well crafted mysteries, even if it means making notes and keeping lists of fictitious characters so I can keep everything straight.
I want to both dream of life's many possibilities and release the desire for those things that just are not to be.
I want to savor life even as I ponder what the future holds, and what heaven will be like, and grimace at world events unfolding before me on our 24-hour news cycle.
I want to travel with National Asset and see new places. I want to meet new people and learn new things, and enjoy visits with long-time friends.
I want to make music and design quilts and figure out how in the world to garden with the veritable zoo of wild critters who seem to think I have opened a restaurant.
I want to live out my days up here, in the woods, at Sanctuary.
And then, at the close of each day, I try to gather up all these 'I wants' and present them as a prayer that ends with but Your will be done.
Amen and amen.
