Was it really just this morning when I got up, brewed the coffee, and cooked breakfast for eight grandkids? At 5:30, it already seems a distant memory. They eat in shifts, the early risers who are inevitably the younger ones, then the teenagers who like to sleep in. Things were a bit out of order today as Abi, who is the oldest, needed to rise earlier than normal so she could get to her job lifeguarding. Madeline, our younger brown-eyed girl, is usually the first one up, and today was no exception. The others slowly drifted towards the kitchen as I flipped pancakes and Linda cooked the sausages. An hour later, the last shift is mopping up the last of the syrup and getting ready to clear the table. They make up their beds, and by then their folks start trickling in.
Today we needed to disgorge the entire crew by 10:00 so we could get to Nathan and Madeline's grappling tournament. Their father is intent on their involvement as a means of building self-confidence, and they both like it, so although Linda watches with squinty eyes in hopes she won't actually see too much, we were there for them.
By noon, we were on our way from the northern end of the county to beyond the southern border, into Pennsylvania, to help our friends Ken and Joan tear out drywall and insulation preparatory to the renovation of what will become their new home. Three hours later, filthy and wheezing, we came home to hot showers before heading out once more for a Koinonia event. We haven't finished the day, and already the morning seems so far in the past.
As I was writing, I was interrupted by a phone call from our youngest grandchild who just wanted "to chat." A rollicking conversation that caromed from where she was sitting (in a drawer) to "I have spider eyes on my forehead and cheeks," and a couple of things of which I am sworn to silence.
Time. In this life, there is more of it behind us than before us. Einstein said that time slows down as we approach the speed of light. We must be getting close. I don't know about time, but the faster we go, the slower we seem to move, which makes us more aware than we used to be of how we invest it. Movies don't move us. Shopping has no thrill when we have more than we need. Trinkets and toys are just that. But people; it's taken some time, but this old introvert has finally learned what really matters. It's the people God has placed in our lives. I am so very grateful tonight for the people in our lives, and for having been given the privilege of living long enough to finally get it through my thick head and heart what really matters.