I like to write about things in life that bring joy. Moreover, I love to write about things that saturate our souls to overflowing. My husband's parents own a quaint cottage on the coast. To describe it to you would be an easy feat; a little house that has housed our hearts for 40 years. Generations of the Andrews family have spent summers at this rejuvenating respite by the sea.
As a teenager, I spent many summer weekends here with Will, my then boyfriend. Boat rides, barbecues, sunbathing at the beach are amongst my most memorable moments. The innocence of adolescence combined with our lack of responsibilities offered us the ultimate experience in fun. Will's parents, in their prime, only had mild melt-downs when we pushed their limits. These would include the time we locked their annex screen door from the outside so we could run amuck in the main house!
Time marched on. Our graduating from high school and soon college, brought an onslaught of variables, like buying cars to get to our jobs, moving into apartments of our own, and becoming engaged, then married. Our cottage excursions became fewer as our lives filled with even more responsibilities...like babies. We eagerly welcomed parenthood, while waving so-long to spontaneity. Their new titles of "Nana" and "Grandpop" gave Will's parents full-rights to savor and snuggle their adorable grandson as much as they wished...until they ran out of crazy glue to salvage broken belongings and their plummeting patience.
Over eight years, we watched our first-born learn to share his beach toys with his new brother, then their new brother, and eventually their two sisters. Five plastic buckets with shovels for building five castles in the sand. Five pairs of flip flops, and five MAJOR squeals when the ice cream man rang his bell to announce his presence. While Will's parents welcomed our coastal visits with them, they continued to mourn the loss of their pristine white walls, solitude and sanity, oh, and their family room door screen-turned-dart board care of our youngest and her plastic foam-dart gun. We held our breath and prayed to every single god of every known religion that his parents wouldn't care about each new catastrophe courtesy of our children. While our kids were not loose cannons, there is only so much control two parents have over 50 fingers and ten fleeing feet! We learned from Will's parents that with age comes wisdom. The wet kisses and heartfelt hugs from their grandchildren mattered much more than their tv screen marred by more fingerprints than those filed at the national fingerprint database. Somehow they knew this was all part of a grand plan unfolding just as it should. Imagine that.
Time, like the sand castles, washed away like the tide, leaving sweet treasures I call bountiful blessings. Faded pictures in driftwood frames reminded us how with time, our hearts grew bigger as our children did. Come nightfall, we brushed the sand from their hair, wished them sweet dreams, and bid goodbye to another day of memories made. We remained ever-thankful for so many things, including the fact that Will's parents either ignored all the "accouterments" that accompanied our gregarious gang, or they simply didn't notice. We were fine with either scenario. What we were not fine with was our realization that it was Will and me who were losing our patience with silly things like his parents used to do.
We were becoming them.
Will's parents have retired and decided to savor all the things you cannot buy in life. Now both in their 80's, they continue to be lucid and quite content. They've replaced their rushed pace with a gentle glide and their glasses, with bifocals. (They've even replaced their hips!) Mostly it's the softening of their now satisfied souls that matter most. Although their vision is not what it used to be, they see the big picture with such clarity. Much gratitude, little regret, and so much love.
Now it's our turn. Our eldest son and his wife are expecting a son of their own. Bring it on. Bring it all on. May the formerly white walls of our little cottage by the coast hear plentiful laughter, the door screens bear many foam darts, and even our own bifocals be generously accessorized with fingerprints. Oh, and one more thing. Bring on the crazy glue. These days, everything including hearts can be fixed; our hearts might just burst from happiness.