Grandparents’ Day is a special day that all the kiddoes look forward too. . . better than when Mom and Dad come to visit school . But for those little ones that don’t have anyone to come, it is gut wrenching. Teachers work hard to get pictures, letters, and stories up for display. . . the routine is surely broken and it is somewhat chaotic and frazzling, but the love is abounding. I enjoyed my time with Brock this morning. . . pictures, book shopping, donuts/coffee and milk. I visited his math class and watched them setting up their ipads for google classroom. . . .I enjoyed seeing my students of last year.
I can only hope that my grandsons have the love and good memories of me as I do of my grandparents. . . .time spent with them brought much joy. Times have surely changed! Just talking and telling stories was my favorite then and still is now.
I loved going to Great Grandpa Brown’s and sitting in his living room by the pot bellied stove. Sitting on the floor by his rocking chair. . . his grey sagging socks and his brown work shoes. . . hearing the sizzling of that stove.. . watching the light out the windows as he was telling one of his stories. . . . Yelling WAIT when it was getting dark . . .I had to run through the house, out the back door, down the little path in the back to the out house before it got completely dark. . . it was scary out there in the dark. I would race back in the wash room, flip on a “light switch” that ran the pump to the water spout, and I could wash my hands. Then I would run back into the house, plop down beside him and said. . . go on with your story. He always made me think that he had been quite still while I was gone.
Or going to Great Grandma Cheeseman’s house was special. . . her yard backed up to the school property. . . she had a green pickle jar on her table and a cracker jar . . . those seemed to be great snacks. . . . The best was buttered bread with sugar sprinkled on. YUMMY! The last time I stayed with her though was a little scary. . . she was getting pretty old and somewhat confused. We had to say goodnight to the people on TV and those that lived under the bed. She was serious about this. When I came home and told Mom. . . she told Grandma and that was the end of Great Grandma staying by herself. . . I am sure there must have been more to it than that.
So many other stories to tell: helping Grandma Brown fixing meals for the farm hands, helping Grandpa milk the cows, mowing yard for Grandma Johnson, reading books in grandma’s basement behind the furnace. . . so many stories. What memories do you have with your grandparents. . . . maybe there is a story to write.