Crossing the Finish Line

It was an auspicious first day of May, with a brief bout of tears. The happy kind. (Still waiting for the Niagara Falls of Grief that I’ve been holding back since November). 

 

The occasion? Getting to witness my 13-year old granddaughter Zadie win her 200-meter race! There is something stirring about watching people push themselves to the limit to defy some horizontal gravity. Yes, there is a competition with other runners, but for me, the greater focus is each person alone heading down the track with everything they've got. 

When Zadie was 2 or 3 years old, she was walking outside with her Dad and started to run away. Terrified that she might run into the street, he took off after her— and was barely able to catch her! She has been a speed demon her whole childhood, running, running, toward some unknown horizon. And now all of that has found a place and a form on her track and field team. Watching her cross that finish line got the tear ducts flowing and when I went to hug her congratulations, I pointed them out to her. I was a Proud Pop-Pop! And then again, when she ran the last leg of her relay team and once again, crossed the finish line first. 

 

All of this was a surprise punctuation mark to a wonderful four days with Zadie and Malik while Mom was off at a Conference in Cleveland. We only heard of this track meet yesterday and were so thrilled to get the chance to witness it. As for the rest of the time, it was some of the usual go-to activities—Rummy 500, basketball out in front of their house with their new set-up, watching the Warrior basketball highlights together (Game 4, not Game 5!), going out for ice cream (Salt and Straw!). The kids were at school every day, so no big hikes or events out on the town. But Karen and I did get to do an Art Project and a Singing Time with Malik’s class at school, with his teacher who is one of our former students! Weather has been pleasant and today spiked up to 80. Portland is in full bloom with dogwood and wisteria and cherries. We loved walking Malik to and from school each day, in company with a herd of other parents either walking or biking together. Also a grand pleasure to meet up as I always do with two wonderful college friends and discuss grandparenting, music, poetry memorization and our astonishment at the state of the world.

 

My daughter is now home again, we leave tomorrow and have 9 days to prepare for the next adventure of biking in France. And so it goes on…