Last week the kids and I had a very intense week in Utah. I mourned the loss of my grandfather, and enjoyed reconnecting with family who, in some cases, I hadn’t seen since before I got married.
For the kids, who didn’t really understand what was going on, the trip was mostly a chance to see (Great-) Grandma C and my dad, brothers and sisters, and cousins.
Watching the kids enjoy outings to the park across the street from my grandmother’s home was a trip down memory lane for me. I enjoyed watching them feed the ducks just as I did at the same pond,
And race boats in the same miniature stream I raced boats in as a child – as well as my father before me.
Best of all, I loved seeing my children enjoy story time! My grandma is a master storyteller, and it was wonderful to hear her share the same stories she told me as a child – some made up in the moment, and others old favorites (compiled into a book and illustrated by my very talented cousin J).
I knew how to dial my grandmother’s phone number by age 4 or 5, and I don’t know how many times I picked up the phone, called her, and asked, “Grandma, tell me a story?” She always obliged, and it was amazing to see her carry on the tradition even in a moment of great sorrow. Thank you, Grandma, for taking my children into the magical world of story time!