June 12, 2020
At last, the new normal is the old normal once more. For the first time in three months, we had a full-bore Meema and Beepa night. For the uninitiated, that’s one of two Fridays each month when all nine of the grandkids come for dinner and stay overnight. Meema’s mac and cheese, hot dogs, homemade applesauce, cottage cheese with peas is standard menu, with cakes and eggs with a side of sausage in the morning.
For the last four years, attendance has been sporadic. Two away at college, high school sports and musical practices took its toll. Sometimes it’s been as few as two, but the full complement of kids hasn’t been with us for some time. Until tonight. Quarantining brought a halt to our gatherings, but tonight the dam finally burst, bringing a flood of grandkids to our door. After dinner, we sat around the table with “High-Low,” where each one named their high point of the day, and their low, if they had one. Being together again was overwhelmingly the high for each one.
A campfire with S’mores, followed by a rousing game of Ghosts in the Graveyard concluded the outdoors part of the evening. Bedtime prayers, talking and laughing around the kitchen table, and bowls of ice cream rounded out the day. I have an appointment to install drywall at my son’s tomorrow morning, so I’m turning in early (actually, it’s late—11:40), but they’re still going strong. It’s been a good day, and I’m grateful tonight.
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