Today I picked up my seven year old grandson, Micah, for him to spend the night at my house and go to church in the morning. There is no predicting what mood I will find him in when I arrive. He is growing up. One day hugs are the best and the next day he is aware of me but too cool to be hugging on me.
Today Micah was full of love. He had been playing at the beach with friends and was mellowed out by the sun and the exercise. The beach is a short walk down the street and over a dune from his mother's apartment. This year the beach has become Micah's playground. I wasn't sure he would want to spend the night with me thinking I might lose out to the joy of going to the beach tomorrow. But he did want to come with me and he hugged me tight, climbed into the van and brightened my world into a blaze of happy colors.
We were going to get ready for bed and watch Peter Pan on my laptop. The minute I started the movie he was fast asleep. Gone completely into a deep slumber he relaxes and his face is tender, younger than seven and beautiful. His tenderness with me today healed me a bit from the anxieties and fears roaming round in my head. Nothing compares to the love of a grandchild or their total belief that Grandma has things under control even though Grandma may wonder about that herself.
Tomorrow he will wake up and he will want rice and scrambled eggs. Guess what? He will get them. It is the routine we have developed over the last few years. He sleeps in what he calls my "cozy little bed" and sometimes I sleep with him and sometimes I sleep on a foam mattress beside him. Our rituals together are unspoken expectations speaking volumes about our trust and love for each other. How I love my time with Micah! I really do wonder if it gets any better than this?
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