Summer’s focus switches from the usual school schedules and my Bible studies to more time spent with grandchildren. God has blessed me with my local grandsons (ages seven and ten) to give me the opportunity to be involved with their care.
We have a regular routine carried over from the school year. After their arrival, we spend our first moments reading from the “Prince Warriors” series by Pricilla Shirer. It’s a Christian fiction book much like C.S. Lewis’s “Tales of Narnia.”
“Remember, Ashton, we have to read the book first,” older brother Gavin remarks as Ashton reaches for the iPad.
As I begin reading, Ashton peeks ahead to see how many pages for this chapter. This endeavor is my one holdout from their usual concentration on video games or U-tubing. It continues to puzzle me how watching a near adult play video games can be so fascinating. Isn’t that spectator spectating?
Their more active pastime is swimming. Our small pool attracts my grandsons’ imaginations. They sit on opposite sides of an innertube and become sailors on the sea.
Gavin gets a mischievous smile on his face and announces, “The Captain goes down with his ship.” He immediately flings himself backward with an attempt to knock his brother off, who clings with tenacity to the innertube. Much giggling and gurgling follows.
It’s hard to recall how leery the youngest one considered the deep end last summer when they started using our pool. Now he prides himself on darting to the bottom to retrieve a plastic ring thrown by his brother. It doesn’t hurt that his older brother proclaims him his “Little Champion.”
When it’s time to leave the pool, they pad their bare feet leaving a trail of wet footprints on the hot concrete. Showers are next on the schedule with a promise of smore’s made via microwave, curbing their demanding appetites.
Sometimes we go out for a treat to scarf down frozen yogurt. While they choose some form of chocolate with toppings, I go for the fruity flavors. Their grandfather enjoyed this forbidden treasure as well, when he was with us.
“Oh no,” Gavin cries out holding his head, “I’ve got a brain freeze!”
“Drink some water €¦Here,” I instruct.
As soon as we arrive back at the condo, Gavin calls out, “Dibs on Papa’s iPad!” It is the coveted game center. I negotiate whose turn it is, with promises of future privileges to the disappointed brother.
“I never get to play on Papa’s iPad,” Ashton mourns.
Later I command a hiatus on electronics during dinner, and we talk about friends and cool games while downing our meatloaf, their favorite of Gramma’s dinners.
“Ashton, please come eat your dinner,” I remind him as he slips out to check his game.
“Gramma, can I please have some more meatloaf, “Gavin requests.
I announce a card game of “Garbage” is on the agenda when dishes are done. We start our game following several delays for completion of a cartoon series. The game keeps revolving after an occasional review of rules and which direction to go for turns.
The eyelids are growing heavier on my sunburnt pair of boys. I allow a little more downtime with cartoons while I prepare their sleeping arrangements. Papa’s bed is comfortable and the fan ruffles their covers as they dream of super heroes and pirate ships.
God has blessed me with this small stretch of time when I can help secure my grandsons’ safety while their parents work. It is a precious interlude in their busy lives for them to rub shoulders with the older generation and learn the value of their elders. Families continue passing down the heritage of love for children and respect for their oldest members despite a focus on electronics and other developments of mankind. May God continue to bless we elderly folks with relationships to our grandchildren, for whom we are grateful.
“Grandchildren are the crowning glory of the aged (Proverbs 17:6 A);”
Dianna
Sharing the Fruit of Maturity
