My daughter phones to tell me about the new playground just completed behind her old middle school. I’m already out, getting some weekend iced coffee, so I drive on over.
A Colossus of colors, towering a couple stories high, greets me as I pull into the parking lot. Tubes and slides, chutes and ladders freshly constructed atop rubbery green foam flooring help cushion unfortunate falls.
Screeches of happiness from four brilliant souls, none of them older than five, as they run to greet me — my grandgirlies and their two best buddies. I play with them, climb the highest mountain, slide down the windiest slide, push them on the “zip line” and rescue one as she dangles perilously a few feet above the grass-tro turf.
My youngest grand wanders away to a different playscape. I follow as three others yell out for me in the webbed tower. Returning a few minutes later, my eldest grand says she’d bonked her knee, so I sit down to examine it. Oops, the faux grass is still wet from the night before.
I pop up and she laughs. “Do something else funny, Pappy,” she implores. So I make a scary pose and growl something silly. She screams with hilarity. The others come running, then immediately run away in mock terror.
Mere months ago, doctors cracked open my chest, fixing my heart. It’s whole now and wholly capable of receiving this spontaneous glee shouted at me.
Later, as I announce my goodbye, a swarm of eight arms surrounds me, hugs me, tell me they love me. A few steps and my eldest grand is hugging my legs again.
A few more hugs, then hugs every few steps all the way to the gate.
I can’t narrate how ecstatic that feels. Attempting to write it down, words limit me. I implore you to live your life so you can experience something even akin to this. Unbridled love, brilliant, popping excitement at your arrival. Deep, real, ephemeral hugs at your departure.
The love is unfathomable, deep, vast and cherished, a treasure in my healing chest.
Thank you, Bill. Isn’t ecstatic a fascinating word? It’s like ex-static, no longer static. It feels like a lesson I may’ve learned from my mentor and favorite teacher of all time.
After reading this I may have to have that talk with my son – the one an adult child definitely doesn’t want to have – about when he anticipates I may be a grandfather.
Fabulous!!!! The joy of young children in loving and enjoying their Papa to the fullest is beyond words. It can only be felt by the heart! I felt your joy my friend ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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This is ecstatic–thank you for helping me ride with it.
Thank you, Bill. Isn’t ecstatic a fascinating word? It’s like ex-static, no longer static. It feels like a lesson I may’ve learned from my mentor and favorite teacher of all time.
The joys of being a GRANDparent!
Oh man, ain’t it great!? And you have the market cornered on GRANDlets, so you should know!
I got rushes of that child joy just reading this
Whoa, thanks Bromo! It was such an ebullient adrenaline spike.
After reading this I may have to have that talk with my son – the one an adult child definitely doesn’t want to have – about when he anticipates I may be a grandfather.
Ha, nice! It’s a difficult talk, particularly if you never had the birds and the bees one.
Fabulous!!!! The joy of young children in loving and enjoying their Papa to the fullest is beyond words. It can only be felt by the heart! I felt your joy my friend ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Ahhh… no doubt, Shelle; nicely said!
I really appreciate your warm words. Thank you so much.
I’m glad your heart is whole again and that the surgeon didn’t touch that whimsical section that makes a 60ish grandpa act like an adventurous boy.
Haha! I love it; they kept the whimsy and cut out the flimsy. Thank you, Melinda. I hope you’re doing great.