A Welcome Humility

Today ended with shopping at Fred Meyers for some wire for Zadie’s costume, a lovely Thai meal and a quick stop at Powell’s Bookstore. All in between the downpours of rain and one ground-shaking thunderclap. I then took my daughter Kerala to the airport—she has a conference in Florida and hence, our 5-day “babysitting” the grandkids. When I came back, my wife Karen was helping Zadie sew some dragon-wings on the wire. Sweet bonding beyond my expertise. 

 

Now we’re side-by-side on computers, but instead of her 14-year-old-self scrolling Instagram or checking out Eminem You-tubes, she’s working on a complex math problem involving graphing far beyond my understanding. Earlier, I played my first Boggle game with 10-year-old Malik and dang if he almost didn’t beat me! Getting high-scoring words like “loosen.” Playing HORSE, I tried a 3-point shot that air-balled short of the rim, then he took one that air-balled over the backboard! Both Zadie and Malik, have long been able to beat me in a race, any distance. 

 

Do I feel disheartened by my diminishing physical and mental skills and their steadily increasing ones? Not in the least. It's a welcoming humility. The way of the world and the proper math of aging at both ends. Of course, I’m happy that I can do some things better— play piano, beat them in cornhole, name all the states and some of the capitals. I’m not ready for the ice floe yet! But I love to watch them grow into their intelligences and talents and am inspired by these signs of their developing maturity. 

In two short years, Zadie will be driving me to the store. A few more and Malik will probably look down on me from his 6-foot-or-more self. While time’s relentless unfolding will bring a sure sadness as it falls on myself and my peers riding into the 80's and beyond, it will help to watch it water my grandchildren’s blossoming. Grateful for it all. 

 

But still I intend to beat Malik in Boggle tomorrow and teach Zadie the next part of Scott Joplin’s Entertainer.