Seven full, exhilarating and occasionally exhausting days with the grandkids. And now they’re gone. Left after lunch and I was feeling genuinely sad to see them go. Went to the back lake to drown my sorrows in a long delicious swim and came back to the house and it was empty. And quiet. And clean. No legos strewn all over the floor, no screams of “Nooo! Zadie!!! Stop it!!!!”, no wondering where Malik moved my hat or camera or deck of cards.
Truth be told? It was kind of nice. I felt like the bear in the story I used to read the kids called “Peace at last.” It was a wild and joyful ride, filled with long hours at the beach, games, delightful conversations and more (see the Third Childhood post). But the pleasure of grandparenthood is the return to the empty nest and its welcome silence and the clean lines of an ordered room. I got to play some piano without one of you banging the keys alongside the Bach. Had a game of Solitaire without you stealing my cards. Now ready to eat dinner on the deck without any bribes for the Clean Plate Club to be made. No cameras poised for the next cute moment. And the possibility of an evening video. Storing some serenity until the next rambunctious romp with the little ones.
Zadie and Malik, I miss you already! But also glad for space and silence. That's how it goes.