Monday morning. 7:00 a.m. With my coffee brewing and the
table set with Honey Nut Cheerios, I wake my sleeping children. Usually, they
are the first to rise in the morning, but I guess a few days at Nannie Camp,
and they are, well, tuckered out. They roll over once, twice until I whisper, “Today
is the first day of soccer camp!” and up they go. They only have summer shorts
and shirts, so we grab the sweatshirts and head down to the breakfast table.
Noah must first check the back door to see if a Luna Moth came visiting last
night and camped out on our screen door. No Luna Moth this morning. Faith
brings me her hairbrush for her long blonde hair which is in full tangles (my
fault completely!)
I get them to camp where they are a bit shy, but I know
under the watchful eye of Tabitha at the Angola Parks, they will see some
friends from last year and make new ones, of course! They love the programs at
the park. Last year they just squeaked in with the age limit, and this year
they are definitely old enough at seven! I do not send them to camp so I can
have free time (really, I don’t!), but they love to visit Angola, and this is
part of their experience with me.
I have been entertaining and keeping watch over Abe’s
children since they were born, and Holly just turned 17! That’s a lot of
summers of Nannie Camp, and I wouldn’t trade it. Faith and Noah counted the
days until they arrived, and say to me every day, “We wish we lived here.” I
have to agree, but I don’t think even I can woo them away from Charleston. The
older girls, Holly and Brianna always said the same thing when they were
younger. Now, I realize they are older with friends. Holly drives, has a
boyfriend, and is very involved in theatre. Brianna is a social butterfly with
friends in every neighborhood. I understand, but oh when they were younger…sigh.
Abe brought the twins on the Allegiant flight on Friday from
Myrtle Beach. I met him at the airport where they all said good-bye, and he got
back on the plane to do the turn around flight. We drug (seriously) the
suitcase to the car and headed home. I had to laugh as the two of them jabbered
all the way home. Could it be that my grandchildren talk as much as I do? There
is a surprise for the first one to spot the purple house. Okay, not much of a
surprise, the quarter for Aldi’s but nonetheless, it is a prize. My dad always
did this when we went to Lake Michigan for the summer. The first one who could
spot Lake Michigan got a dollar. Of course, he started the game when we were
just out of Battle Creek, but it kept our attention until we got to Mackinaw
City. Yes, I know, the purple house is not quite like Lake Michigan, but to seven-year-olds
who can’t wait, it is just as wonderful.
I am ready at the house. Cupboards full. Beds cozy. Toys
brought out of the garage and scrubbed up. They run inside from room to room
looking at everything. They run outside and visit Harley’s grave first telling
him “Hello.” I love that they always remember him. Even though our time
together has just started, we don’t miss anything from planting extra pumpkin
seeds in the garden to butterfly hunting (thanks to Aaron for taking Noah!), to
bedtime stories when the day is over, and we gather on my bed. We take a deep
breath and chat about our day before the books. My shelves are full of books…in
every room. I choose stories for them that I read to all the other children.
They always ask, “Did you read this one to Jonah?” I smile at that. Last night
we read “Roxaboxen” which is one of my favorite children’s books. Yes, I read
that to Jonah, and he made his own Roxaboxen with the neighborhood kids when he
was little. At the end of the book, I cried. The twins looked at me wondering
why I was crying. “Oh,” I said, “I guess because I read this Jonah and he is
all grown up and some day you will be grown up too.”
“But not yet,” I whispered. “You are still mine for a
while.”
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