I am almost fully recovered from the West Nile Virus. As if the horrible ear pain, ringing in the ears, stiff neck, painfully swollen glands, headache, body aches, sleeplessness, and in general feel-badness for a week weren’t bad enough, in the 2nd week of WNV I broke out in The Rash. The first blotches were on my face and chest, and I wondered for a moment if I had regressed into adolescence. But it wasn’t long before the red bumps were everywhere from the tips of my fingers down my trunk to my ankles. You could cover the face with makeup but there wasn’t enough cover for the arms and legs.
By day 6 of the illness I had just about had it. It was Friday, and my daughter and her family were due in town late that night for a wedding the next day. I was cranky, restless, tired, and in a bad mood. I lay down to rest and await their arrival, hoping it would make me feel better (my husband hoped so too).
They arrived around 9:30 , not bad for a Friday after work drive, and I went outside to greet them. Emily’s smile at being at Grandma’s was just what I needed. We went upstairs to the grandkids room while Dad brought in Molly, just waking from a snooze. Emily went immediately for Bambi and looked around at some of her favorites, saying “I remember this.” I told her I was so glad she liked this room as much as I did, even though it wasn’t very big and I always had the same things. “It’s my favorite place,” she said earnestly, and I could honestly join her in saying, “Mine too.” Already I was feeling better. Then I heard Molly calling, “Grandma, Grandma” and I new the Tonic girls were going to cure me.
Our girls love to sleep on the floor. Beds are apparently an unnecessary element in their world. Emily chose the Winnie the Pooh sleeping bag this time, placing the Caterpillar on the floor by Molly’s pillow. It was hard to calm down having just arrived, but before long teeth were brushed, jammies were on, bedtime music was playing softly, and Grandma was nestled in between them on the floor reading a story and patting backs. Emily wanted her “alone time with Grandma”, so her obliging parents and Grandpa left the room. I was in my own bed by 10:30 and for the first time in a week I slept soundly for 7 hours.
Next morning mom was off to the hair salon for a cut-n-color prior to the wedding and Grandpa had some work to do at church. The girls and I had an easy day ahead of us. We started with breakfast, of course, and decided on eggs, toast and some cherub tomatoes. Emily is pretty good at cracking eggs, but I showed her how to tap the egg and gently pull the shell apart leaving the yellow whole because then you can have an over easy. The farm fresh eggs from Grandpa’s friend Rex were very tasty, and Emily ate two of my perfect over easy eggs. Perfectly toasted English Muffins sopped up the remaining yellow and we were set for the morning.
Now that Emily is in kindergarten, she likes to play school. She was the teacher and I would be her assistant; Molly could be a student if she could behave. Today we were learning art, and teacher carefully selected themed selections of colors, markers and construction paper for her students, which included Bambi, American Girl Samantha and her friends, Lion Cub and Linnea. And me. Emily taught us how to draw a beach ball, dividing the circle into triangles and coloring each section different. Soon we segued into hospital, and while Molly played with alphabet blocks Emily used her many colored bandages to fix up every real and perceived boo-boo in the room. Molly even sat in the doctor chair for a while and let doc plaster her with blue band aids.
Kathy was re-discovered, and Emily was as delighted with this life-size plastic doll-child as her mother had been. Kathy is probably 50 or 60 years old, stands as tall as a 5 yr old, made out of plastic with real hair and eyes that close when she lies down. Over the course of the weekend, Kathy went to school, was in the hospital for a broken leg, had her first bath in probably 30 years, and ate every meal sitting next to Emily.
She also was with us when we baked cookies. Making cookies at Grandma’s is a tradition, and the girls had great fun helping make the dough, adding flour to their work surface, and rolling it out for their chosen cutters. At 2 ½ Molly is still a bit challenged at this – for her it’s more about trying to sneak bites of cookie dough. I don’t give her much dough at a time, and at one point she was impatiently waiting for me to give her some more while I pulled a pan of cookies out of the oven. As I turned around I heard Emily wail, “She hit me!” and cry in genuine pain. Molly had bonked Emily in the right temple with the handle of a wooden rolling pin and I rushed to put some ice on it. Fortunately it didn’t get Emily in the eye. Molly got a major time out for that one, and she was not happy about it. Even gave me a taste of the “sprinkler” crying (ask her mom to explain that one, Molly is a master at it.)
After the cookies were done it was definitely time for a bath. Emily, Kathy, Molly and the bag of sea animals all went into a big bubble bath – bathtime at Grandma’s has to have bubbles. Nothing like clean girls to wrap in towels and smell their hair as we get them into pajamas. Molly let me put her down early, and I loved our quite time together reading books and watching her bring a tonka truck to bed with her. You never know when you might wake up and need that. Emily read her “We’re Going on a Bear Hunt”, one of my favorites, and Molly listened carefully as Emily made all the sounds. Then Emily grabbed a pile of books and went downstairs to wait for me. Molly’s long lashes graced her cheeks and her breathing was even in minutes, so I tucked her in and went down to check on Emily.
Emily and I plugged in a classic Disney Bugs Bunny VHS (yes I still have those and a player that works!) Our favorite is the “music” one where Bugs and his opera singer neighbor are at war between his singing and Bugs’ banjo playing. Bugs, of course, wins. Also the bull fight one – you just can’t outsmart Bugs. Oh to stop time in these precious minutes – the little one snugly asleep upstairs, and the older one snuggled against me, both of us laughing at the antics of a classic cartoon. They are growing up so fast.
After another good night’s sleep, I woke to hear Molly at my door saying “Thunder! Thunder!” And indeed there was a good amount of lightning and thunder. It was still dark outside, so I took her out on the porch swing and rocked her gently, telling her that God made the lightning, the rain, the thunder, and we didn’t need to be afraid of any of it. We had some precious time together experiencing God’s nature. As I stood to go in, holding her with her head on my shoulder and our heartbeats touching, I thought what a privilege it was to have that sweet life in my arms, trusting me to bear her up and keep her safe in the storm. As God has done for me so many times.
We went back in and Emily was awake, ready for another over easy egg. I had another morning with them, getting them dressed for Sunday School and taking them with us to church. What a fabulous phase of life, grandparenting; if I could I’d freeze time and never let them grow up. Never change how fun the girls are, how young and beautiful their mother is, how close we all are, how special life is.
After church we headed home to a meal of fried chicken, Grandpa’s homemade mashed potatoes and gravy, peas and salad. Laura and Craig are wonderful parents, one minutes monitoring their childrens’ manners, the next joking with us, the next picking up Molly to examine her fall for broken bones v. bruises. All in an hour’s work.
I am thankful that Emily no longer cries when she leaves our house. I can’t always say the same, and this is one of those times. Although my tears don’t come immediately, they come later, after I try to distract myself with reading or housework and remember the special talks with my daughter, or Emily’s laugh at Bugs Bunny, or Molly’s listening in on the phone extension and trying to hide it. If I could I would move them here, next door, so that we might have moments every day. But for now I will be thankful for our closeness, their voices that still echo in the rooms. I’ll read my past blogs and remind myself that next month I’ll see them again. We all have our lives to live, and I’ve had my turn at having little ones in the house 24/7. I have to let go, and be thankful for the blessing of every moment they share with me.
