|
|
Examiner
  • Diane Mack: Who's that knocking at my door?

  • Last Friday night, I returned home, tired, after a long week. I had grabbed a salad, on the way home, so I plopped onto the bed in our spare bedroom. I began to eat my salad and watch the news.

    • email print
  • Last Friday night, I returned home, tired, after a long week. I had grabbed a salad, on the way home, so I plopped onto the bed in our spare bedroom. I began to eat my salad and watch the news.
    I was very glad the weekend was clear from activities and work.
    I realized just how tired I was (my head kept falling into the croutons), therefore I headed to bed. As I sat down to the computer to log off, I heard a knock at the door.
    Now who would be stopping by, late on a Friday night.
    I told Kelsey’s staff to answer the door.
    Five minutes later, I heard a group of people coming up the hallway. Then all of a sudden, there they were, standing at my bedroom door, my daughter Kortney, hubby Chase and grandkids, Camille and Elliott.
    They had come to surprise me for the three-day weekend.
    What a happy weekend for me!
    Although, it was a bit, funny, too.
    Kortney and Chase had decided, at the last moment, to drive from Ohio to Missouri. As their little Nissan rounded the corner on our street, Camille threw up. Mom was holding her, covered with her last meal and Elliott was screaming.
    Kortney planned to have the kids at the front door, knocking on the screen door. She was going to video, me, in shock when I saw my visitors. But their plans changed suddenly when Camille got sick. They simply rushed down the hallway, with babies in arms, and started the bath water.
    Who cares, no sickness was going to keep me from hugging my grandkids.
    And it has been fun. Sippy cups, bottles, diapers, baby wipes, Cheerios, candy, onesies, Johnson & Johnson, night feedings, barrettes, bows and mini Puma sweat suits.
    I hadn’t seen Elliott since he entered this world.
    The married kids all live in other states. I have kind of settled in, on that one. But grandkids grow too fast; it saddens me.
    When I left Elliott, he was sleeping, round the clock, rarely opened his eyes, cried on and off and had a small reminder of his attachment to mommy. It was sad for me to leave him, Camille and mommy.
    But here he was, stretched out across my bed, three and a half months later. He was smiling, cooing, and grabbing his hands. He whispered to me, ‘Hi grandma” (not really). However, his eyes beamed hello.
    The next day, feeling much better, Camille went right for the basement, and all of grandma’s toys. Those toys don’t get played with very often.
    Well, enough bragging . . .
    It’s interesting how, and what, you teach your children. More than once, over the past 30 years, I’d pack the kids and drive across country to see my parents. And yes, a few times, we’d do it unbeknownst to my family.
    Page 2 of 2 - I planned the same arrival. I’d stand the kids at the front door, ring the doorbell, and hide in the alley next door. My mom would scream, “Oh my glory” and hug each of the kids, while she pulled them in the door. It was a good feeling, as a daughter, to surprise my mom in that manner.
    You know it feels good, as a mommy, too.
    Diane Mack is coordinator of Putting Families First, Jackson County’s Family Week Foundation. Email her at  Jacksoncountyfamilyweek@juno.com or visit www.jacksoncountyfamilyweek.org.
     
     
      • calendar