A Call To Action
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This is an excerpt from my book, Practicing Faith.
The two granddaughters are now ages 14 and 11.
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One Saturday Cyndi and I rendezvoused with our daughter, Katie, in Abilene, halfway between our house in Midland and Katie’s house in Mansfield. Katie handed off her own two daughters, Madden (age four) and Landry (age one), and what seemed to be three hundred pounds of baby gear. The girls were going to spend a week with their Gran and Pops.
I don’t need to go into detail how busy it was for us as we tried to remember how we used to take care of little kids, balancing our time with the girls and our full lives. We were much better thirty years ago; we seemed to have lost our edge, and a few strategic skills, during those years.
However, It was great, and we finished the week looking forward to next summer’s visit.
Of course, since I went to my office to work during the day, Cyndi spent the most time with the girls. The only time I had them to myself was each evening while she taught yoga classes. Cyndi took them to play with Pattie’s two grandsons, to swimming lessons, to the Children’s Museum, to the water park in Andrews, and everywhere else. I’m sure she has more stories and insights than me … but she’ll have to write her own story to tell about all that.
It was only one week, so we dedicated all available time and energy to being with the girls. I didn’t do any of the things I regularly did while Cyndi taught her evening classes - run, bike, or go to the gym - the entire week. I kept remembering something I’d read from Dr. Leo Cooney, founder and director of the Section of Geriatrics at the Yale School of Medicine, who wrote, “If you have to decide between going to the gym or being with your grandchildren, I’d choose the grandchildren.” Done. Thanks, Dr. Cooney.
So instead of all those workouts, I had conversations like this …
“Look girls, Gran made us Neelix Rolls, a family favorite” “Pops, can I have another cinnamon roll?” “What would your mom say?” “Well, what do you say?” “Sure. Here you go.”
“Pops, do you know how to skip?” “Not anymore.”
“Pops, can you read this book to me?” while holding a copy of Confessions, by St. Augustine. “Come back in twenty years.”
“Here is another sticker for your shirt. Pops. It’s a sparkle star.” “Thanks. It looks great on my black polo.”
“Hey Pops, what does a Monarch Butterfly say?” “African or European?”
“Do you have Hello Kitty on your phone?” “Not since Gran made me take it off. She said I was wasting too much time.”
“Pops, will you fix my hair?” as we walked into church Sunday morning. I had already brushed it, foolishly thinking that was enough. Later, when it became clear to her that I had no idea how to fix her hair the way she imagined it, “Call Gran on your phone so she can come fix my hair.”
“Cyndi, do you think it would be OK if I took the girls on a bike ride if they sit in the trailer?” “No. Landry is only one year old. She’s too small; she’ll tumble over on her head.” “Besides that part, would it be OK? What if I found a bike helmet?” “No.”
At Chic-fil-A … “Hey Madden, are you big enough get me a refill?” “Yes.” “Do you know where to go?” “To the counter.” “Do you know what I want?” “Diet Coke.” “Good girl.”
"When will this race ever be done, Pops?" while sitting my lap watching the Tour de France. “In three weeks.” “That’s too long.”
“Cyndi, how do you feel about putting a baby on the floor to finish off all the bits of carrots she threw down, because Landry seems to enjoy her second helping?” (I should add I didn’t put her down for this specific reason, the girl just loves to be on the floor. She found the food on her own and cleaned it up before I could get to it. Good girl.)
When I was young, I spent a significant part of each summer at my grandparents’ house. I remember my grandmother telling me, “You can’t catch a fish if they hear you talking.” Silly me, I thought she was giving me fishing advice. She just wanted me to be quiet for a bit. It makes more sense to me now that I’m a grandparent myself.
Here’s the thing. A huge spiritual root in my life grew from the time I spent with my grandparents. They invested their lives and faith in me, and I benefit from that still, fifty years later. That sort of impact is what I’m hoping for, with the granddaughters in our house.
Babies are stuck with the family they fall in to. It is up to us to rise to the occasion, just like my parents and grandparents did, and live lives of honor and grace and gratitude. Holding Madden and Landry was another call to action for me. I’m hoping for lots more opportunities.
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“I run in the path of Your commands,
for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32
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