The Picture on the Mantel

We haven’t had rain in what seems like an eternity, but of course this past weekend, when my husband was smoking ribs and grilling chicken for dinner with the kids, we suddenly had torrential downpours that snuffed out the grill and forced him to move the cooking to the kitchen, amid much vigorous cursing. As soon as the oven was fired up to finish dinner, the rain stopped, and the sun peeked back out, like it was laughing.

Despite the weather’s contrariness, dinner turned out great, and we had a lot of fun. There was so much going on, I couldn’t even keep up: multiple stories being told at the same time, impromptu wrestling in the kitchen (always with my husband in the middle of it), and a lot of laughing, all while keeping an eye on our 3-year-old grandson and trying to convince my cat to at least let the boy look at him (he wasn’t going for it yet).

After dinner, one of the kids was holding our grandson to look at photographs on our mantel. One of the pictures is a framed photo of my mother, in her 70s, with short, white hair and glasses. Our grandson scanned the pictures, stopped at the one of my mother, and said, “Gigi”, the name he calls Psycho.

At first, everyone chuckled, because of course there is no photograph of Psycho on our mantel. One of the kids said, “No, not Gigi,” then corrected him and tried to pretend he was looking at a photo of one of my stepdaughters instead. He glanced at that picture, way at the other end of the mantel, turned back to the photo of my mother, and repeated insistently, “Gigi.”

I bit my tongue. Truth be told, it was kind of sad. To him, he was just innocently looking at some pictures, saw a photo of an older woman wearing glasses, and thought it was his other grandmother. He wasn’t being insulting, simply honest.

Because the truth is, Psycho does look considerably older than she actually is. Everyone ages, sure, but some things speed the process up considerably. Bitterness. Frowning. Jealousy. Always, perpetually, eternally pissy. How can being miserable 24/7 not take its toll?

Time will eventually leave its stamp on all of us. There’s no escaping that, and it’s just a part of life. But when happiness and love shine in your eyes and heart, it will show on your face. It makes a difference. And when bitterness and hate seep through instead, it’s far more than aging. It’s decay, withering, spoiling like garbage.

We can’t stop the hands of time. But we can control what we feed on the inside, what is held in our hearts, what ends up revealing itself on the outside, even to an innocent and very honest 3-year-old.

Weekend Getaway

Ever have a weekend so peaceful, so relaxing, so beautiful, that you just don’t want it to end? My husband and I took a 3-day weekend for a beach getaway, and I am still in denial about it being over already.

This is where we spent the last few days:

The water was crystal clear, emerald green near the shore, cobalt blue as it got deeper. The sand was like white powder, soft, perfect for digging my toes into as we relaxed on the beach after a swim.

We were amazed to have the beach almost entirely to ourselves. The water was still a bit chilly, but after we eased into it and got used to it, we didn’t want to get out. The waves were gentle, just enough to give us a lift as they rolled by and crashed gently on the shore, and the water was cool and clear. We actually spotted a stingray and a sea turtle in the shallow water nearby.

We stretched out on our beach chairs to dry off. It was perfect: the sun danced in and out from behind thick, white clouds, and a breeze danced by, keeping us cool. Our bare feet sank into the smooth sand, and the water sparkled, turquoise and sapphire, as the sun skipped across the waves, their rhythmic sound threatening to lull both of us to sleep.

I glanced over at my husband as we relaxed, and with the brilliant blue sky and clouds behind him, I thought he looked so handsome. I took a picture, and it turned out to be one of my favorite pictures from the trip.

Eventually the sound of the waves and the shimmering water were too much to resist, and we played in the water a bit more, jumping into the waves, the sun warm on our shoulders, salt on our lips each time we kissed. We kept marveling at being the only people in the waves and how gorgeous the water all around us was.

When we did finally drag ourselves away from the beach, we hit some outlet stores at a beach town nearby. I laughed when I realized that, despite being surrounded by clothing and designer bag shops, the only place I bought anything was the baby and kids’ outlet store, where we had fun picking out outfits and shoes for our grandkids.

I made a joke that I wasn’t very cool, carrying a baby store shopping bag while all the other ladies were toting bags from stores like Michael Kors, Coach, or Calvin Klein. My husband squeezed my hand and said, “That makes you very cool!”

We made our way to the beach once again yesterday morning, walking down the shore with our feet in the water, taking it all in one more time before heading home. We enjoy beach trips every summer, but this one impressed us so much with how breathtakingly beautiful it was. We will definitely be going back…the sooner, the better!

Slow Down and Hold On

We ended up with not one, but two, special guests over the past few days. Our littlest grandson, who is somehow 10 months old already, spent some time with us over the weekend. He is on the move now, crawling like he’s gas-powered. I got a few priceless pictures of my husband crawling next to him, with our grandson looking back at him like he’s patiently giving him pointers on how to improve his crawl game.

He woke us up at “what-the-hell-time-is-it” o’clock, and I thought for sure he’d nod back off after a bit, but nope. As far as he was concerned, it was time to play and laugh and crawl back and forth between us to offer equal opportunities to adore him. And since we are well-trained and doting grandparents, that is exactly what we did.

After work yesterday, we had a second special guest, our older grandson, who is 3. He spotted the watering can in our garage and was fascinated with it, so my husband filled it up and let him water the grass, some potted plants, the walkway, himself, and pretty much anything else that looked like it could use some hydration.

My husband decided the watering can wasn’t enough havoc and mayhem for his liking, so he hooked up the garden hose and turned it on full-blast, then handed the trigger to our grandson. For some reason, I believed that our grandson would chase his dad and his granddad with the hose, but certainly not an imposing, refined, and stringent authority figure such as his grandmother.

Well, I was certainly wrong about that. Our grandson shrieked with delight as he chased all of us, me included, around the front yard, blasting us as much as he could with the hose, each direct hit punctuated with a fresh round of uncontrollable toddler laughter. I do believe that random people walking down the street and even police officers would not have been safe from his gleeful spree. In the end, all of us were dripping wet, walking funny in our soaked shoes, hair plastered to our heads. My wet eye makeup streaked until I looked like a giant raccoon. I’m not sure who was more amused: our grandson, or my husband!

Both grandsons are growing so fast. I still remember sitting in the hospital room, waiting for the arrival of our first grandson. I love my stepchildren, and now having their children in my life is something I can’t even describe. I glimpse echoes of my stepsons in them, right alongside their own unique little personalities, and it’s beautiful and overwhelming. In the blink of an eye, they will be grown, too big for me to pick up and hold above my head, too independent for my lap, too tall for the adorable baby and toddler clothes and toys we can’t buy enough of.

But that day hasn’t come yet, so we will enjoy them being little while they still are. I already know, from watching my stepkids grow up, just how shockingly fast it all happens. This time, I feel pre-warned. I will slow down. Watch them. Enjoy them. Soak it all in. Love them. Hold them tight, but be ready to start letting go, because after all, growing up is exactly what they are supposed to do.

My Priorities this Weekend

No deep thoughts today. No inspirational quotes. I am just ready for the weekend! It’s been a long week with a lot going on, and I can think of nothing I want more than to head home, kiss my husband hello, and enjoy our evening together. We will be having a special guest tomorrow morning, and I can’t wait!

It’s going to be a busy weekend, but I am looking forward to it. Whatever doesn’t get done, simply doesn’t get done. My priorities this weekend include the people in front of me, having fun, loving my husband, and appreciating our time together, no matter what we are doing.

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