The Magic of Grandparents (Part 1)

from the mom

Today is my Opa's 94th birthday and so I've been thinking about grandparents. There is no doubt there is a special relationship between grandparents and grandchildren. I've experienced it as a grandchild and now I'm observing it as a mother to little ones who light up in the presence of their grandparents. Ben thinks my parents home is Disneyland and nothing makes him happier than to get into the car for the 3+ hour trip. Kyri is quickly picking up on the wonder, though she isn't quite as excited about the trip.

My mom's parents lived in the same home for more than 40 years. I thought it was a huge house, the coolest house ever. The older I got, the smaller it got, but I still thought that a house with stairs was the best. It was a magical place for children; the upstairs had my mother's old bedroom, which because she was the youngest remained her room until they moved. She had one of those old fashioned vanities with a huge mirror and a chair and she had a hat collection on the walls. The room was lavender. There was also a huge wooden box full of all of my aunts old formal dresses. My cousins and I would dress up in their shiny clothes and pill-box hats with netting across the face.

Downstairs was the piano. Neither of my grandparents played but they made sure all of their girls took lessons and any attempts on the piano were rewarded with oohs and aahs. I am not in the least musical and five years of lessons only proved it, but my Oma would have told you I was a musical genius.

The kitchen held wonders like the huge jar of chewable vitamin C. I devoured them like candy. My Oma was a fabulous cook and did all kinds of cool things like make homemade root beer. On two separate occasions it blew up when she opened a bottle spraying root beer all over her and the kitchen. She would laugh about it and I thought it was very funny, more so because I didn't have to clean it up.

Outside there was a fish pond (complete with huge goldfish), a grape arbor (with romantic benches underneath), berry patches, a creek with a wooden footbridge and bulrushes (which inspired me to think of the baby Moses hidden among the bulrushes), a tire swing, and a huge bush over which we played "Annie, Annie Over." My Opa had a detached garage with a shop, where I could pull down the ladder and climb up in the loft.

It was a magical place.

That my Oma believed in indulging all my childhood preferences only made it better. We ate my favorite foods and she made my Opa take me to the local pool to swim (she was terrified of water). She would take me to all the cool parks and we had picnics and played. She was in her 60s when she was swinging and sliding with me.

My Opa would make me wooden canvases to paint on. Again, while I have absolutely no talent at drawing or painting, my grandparents treated me like Picasso whenever I drew or painted.

I feel blessed to have been able to have a lot of time with all of my grandparents. But today especially, I wish my Opa a Happy 94th Birthday.