Grandchildren

At the retirement home where I live, some people see their grandchildren every week.  David’s granddaughter comes every Sunday and takes him to church.  I envied Nell, whose delightful small granddaughter and grandson came bounding into the dining room and ran to give her hugs and kisses. 

My daughter Martha lives in the Chicago area.  She and her husband, Don, have three sons.  The boys barely know me.  I have always lived 1,000 miles away.  I have not visited them since I went on dialysis four years ago.

I still think of them as little boys.  As children I took each of them on Elderhostels where I spent a week with one of the boys.  Doug went with me to the Art Institute of Chicago and to Washington, DC.  Richard and I spent our weeks in New Mexico, first time with the Navajo Indians, the second in Roswell, where he built a rocket.  Joe stayed in Illinois; we studied Abraham Lincoln and went to the new museum in Springfield. 

Going away with one boy without his parents or siblings was a great way to get to know a child, but it does not compare with seeing grandchildren every week.   

Now the boys are men, all over 6 feet tall.  Doug has come to see me several times.  He is a charming, outgoing kid.  The first time he came, we had a luau beside the swimming pool.  Doug put on a grass skirt and got up and danced the hula, winning the hearts of all the old women at this retirement home.

Doug and Richard both came to see me this year.  Richard has a different personality.  He is very shy, but he cooperated with everything Grandma suggested.  He let me take him to see “Gone With the Wind” which he had never seen before.  He made no comments afterwards.  At home in Illinois he plays the cello in several orchestras. 

Doug drove me to Fort Worth to see the exhibits at the Kimball and Carter art museums.  I was delighted to see he continued the same enthusiasm for art that he did when he was 12 years old.)   Richard’s choice was also a drive to Fort Worth, but instead of going to the city’s famous museums, Richard wanted to hear a concert of classical music.  Their visits were brief, but at least I know a little about these two, very different grandsons – and as adults they got to know me. 

I have not seen Joe since he was twelve years old. 


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