The three children that were in our group Friday evening ran from one activity to the next as though they were in a race to get to the finish line. There was obviously much that appealed to their sense of excitement. They sprinted from one play-station to the next at the newly created playscape. The park has been there a long time and is named in honor of Chief Peta Nocona. The three children moved almost in sequential order so as not to miss any of it.
Somehow, like sands though an hourglass, they sensed the playtime wouldn’t last forever. They didn’t want to miss out on any of it. All three of the kids had been there previously. Though no one spoke of it, all knew it was only a matter of time before the dreaded announcement would be made that everything needed to come to a halt. It would be time to go back to the hotel and to begin making preparations for bedtime. Seldom is that an activity that appeals to children who are having fun. Besides that, the park had never been this good. A large new section had been added and it was better than ever before.
The next day, the venue in which we found ourselves was different and it was a much larger group. There were a lot more adults. There were also a lot more children. It was all so familiar - the smiles and the laughter. There were a host of “little eyes” that carried a sense of excitement as children connected with other children who somehow all seemed like they belonged to the same group.
In the resources of my mind, I reminisced of days gone by when I, too, had little eyes and a sense of expectation that time spent with cousins, uncles, aunts and grandparents would be amazingly special. It was always a time that I wished would never end.
Yesterday and the day before, the smiles and the laughter were exactly as I remembered from my own childhood and subsequently from the childhood of my children. Some of the kids in yesterday’s group had just met for the first time, but within seconds they seemingly were in one accord with a race to the finish line. Some tossed a football back and forth. Children were lost in their own conversations and oblivious to the adults who hovered around them.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and it was the wife of one of my cousins. She asked: “Do you know who this is?” She handed me a picture that I had never seen before, but I immediately knew the couples’ identity. It was my Grandpa and Grandma Long, my maternal grandmother’s parents. They each were holding an infant. Both infants looked the same size. At the time, I didn’t know the year “1947” was written on the back. That would have been an immediate give away related to the identities of the two infants. I identified my great-grandparents and shared some of my memories associated to them.
Grandpa and Grandma Long were always fun to be around. Grandpa Long was visually impaired, but he always talked with us and made us feel important. In exchange for a hug, he gave us a nickel. It was “easy money” because he was a kind man. I always looked forward to seeing him and Grandma Long. I never had an opportunity to know my other maternal great grandparents on my grandpa’s side. I was too young to remember them because they died when I was very small.
In my brother’s blog from yesterday, he talked about the significant relationship that we had with our aunts and uncles throughout our lifetime. My mother was one of six children and they remained a close-knit loving family all of their days. Seriously, it defies description or explanation. In addition, as cousins we had opportunities to visit on holidays and special occasions. It was always the best of times.
My grandparents lived in a rambling old house in Ringgold, Texas. There was a wrap-around front porch with a painted white railing. As kids we spent hours (day and night) together. We found adventure playing in the pasture. We played cowboys and Indians and would roll down the hill in front of the house when we were shot by a make-believe arrow or bullet. Never did we have the kind of fun that we had when we were all together at my grandparent's home.
The times were mostly always fun filled. There were also times of sadness. My mother’s youngest brother died at the age of twenty-seven. He was serving in the military in Japan when he was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s disease and given six-months to live. He proved the doctor’s wrong and lived a very full life for the next six years.
He was the first uncle to make it to the other side of eternity. Subsequently, everyone else with the exception of my mother’s youngest sister is now part of that heavenly host. How grateful we are for her continued presence with us. She does a really good job of staying in contact with all of her nieces and nephews and keeping us updated on family matters.
It was a Déjà vu kind of experience Friday night and yesterday because the roles are all the same. It is just that I’ve graduated along with my cousins to a role other than that of watching my children and their second cousins playing together at the Chief Peta's Playground.
How did we not know that life would go by so quickly when we were younger? So my cousins and I are now in the group that would have been on level playing field with my grandparents. My children and their second cousins are now at an age representative of where we once were in the midst of adulthood while we were raising our children. They are now watching their kids play in same park where they once played as kids. It is as though all of us have advanced a category and we’ve stepped up to a different level.
So which of the three levels is the best?
· Is it better to be a child and engaged in play with a host of cousins while garnering the attention of a loving host of extended family members?
· Is it better to be a parent in the midst of adulthood with parenting responsibilities and career opportunities?
· Is it better to be a seasoned family member who knows the joys of having been surrounded by a loving supportive family?
I am of the mindset that life increasingly gets better and better. At the same time, it gets harder and harder. Each developmental level carries with it both privileges and responsibilities.
I was thrilled with the number of younger family members that gave priority to attending this year’s reunion. The date was adjusted to coincide with the summer break. With kids out of school, they didn’t have the responsibility for extra-curricular school activities. Consequently, it freed parents to attend with their children. The turnout was exceptional.
So how did you answer the aforementioned question regarding which of the three levels is best? I sense the answer has a relationship to where you are in the progressive nature of life.
All My Best!
Don