Our kids and grandchildren left yesterday…suddenly the house had an empty feeling, albeit was rather nice. I’ve reached an age and time in my life where lots of space from noise, conversation, constant sounds is a relief.
I have also reached a place where having them drive away is heart wrenching; the knowledge they are gone —- back to lives far from us.
Watching her talking with with (our learning to drive grandson), and very modern 11 year old granddaughter, has caused me to think back over all those many years ago when I was 8, or 11, or…… I remember watching my parents, friends of my parents, my grandparents and my great-aunts and great-uncles. Observing attentively I tried on their ‘ways’ for myself. Over time I took little pieces I could use, then looking deeply within I found things that I couldn’t find elsewhere, things that were uniquely mine.
Every year, as the grandchildren get older, I know they are inventing themselves. Just like each one of us.
Seeing my age-marked hand, there in the corner of Tally’s birthday photo, gave me a start. For a second I saw my Mother’s hands…no! wait! ….It was the hands of my grandfather, my mother’s father.
Ghosts of those we have loved and ghosts of those with whom we share DNA flit within us. If I look in the mirror I see Momma looking back, if I turn quickly and look out the corner of my eye my mother’s mother is there beckoning me to come sit by her. Just for a spell. In my dreams I see all them again, just like before. Standing solid in my life. Memories made of ghosts who still touch my heart.
The years have now join with my body producing hair of gray, wrinkles where youthful skin once was, my physical body still works as hard as it ever has, only it take me longer to do what I once did much faster.
Still every thing is good…this growing older, for it means there is still life.
With love, your friend always,