New Eyes

My grandson, who is now a year and a half old, has saved me from the middle age stodgies, just as I was learning to pee again with the bathroom door closed.

He is helping me learn all those things I was forgetting, like how to be patient and understanding, and how to laugh and play, to be silly and dance.

Walking into my same old same old bedroom, I now find I have to navigate around a stack of peanut butter jars and soup cans.  I might find a dinosaur in with my spices, or my spices outside the front door on the porch where he has subtly opened the door and deposited them.  There is a spattering of scribbling on my drawer front, and dried peas under the table.

I am planning healthy meals and snacks and regular out of doors time.  I point out the moon, and enjoy artful illustrations in his books.  I sing.  A lot.  And make bizarre sounds in the interest of fun.

It's been years since I turned on the radio and danced away, or laughed til it hurt.  And I didn't even realize I was missing those things.  To have a child in one's life, one gets the opportunity to look at the world, the stale old world we've seen for half a century, with new eyes.  NEW eyes!  What a gift!

Thanks, little Avior.  For all you give me.

Love always,
Ma Ga.