Wednesday, June 12, 2024

A red letter day...

 



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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