BackwaterBlog

I guess that I’m officially a grandfather now.  There was a slight delay in recognition there, on Friday afternoon.  For ten minutes the grandson regarded me gravely, with a questioning look at his mama, a pensive look at me.  He wasn’t real sure.  I didn’t rush him.  Just sat on the kitchen floor and let him take his time.

He wobbled over eventually and gave me a hug.

By the time Sunday rolled around the boy was my best pal.  Again.

The thought ran through my mind that “Gee, this is what all the other grandfathers must do.  Weekend reunions, some shy standoffishness.  Slow looping reacquantence.”  Then goodbye.

The boy and his Boxer dog ran large in the backwater this weekend.  After getting over a bout of his own shyness, the dog raced over the big backyard, dry grass crackling under thudding paws and a long tongue pointing the way.  The boy stood with a grin and outstretched arm directing traffic, encouraging.  Wanting for all the world to move that fast.  To throw saddle to Boxer and spur him on.

The whole crew came over for a Saturday night feed, Beth the Eldest and Ben the son with their special people, Lauren the bestest friend of Maggie.  Ben tended a smudge fire for the mosquitos and I did the grille thing.  There were horseshoes, and carousing and beer and Dave Matthews as an impossibly blue Carolina sky went down and Orions Belt came up.  Saturday passed to Sunday and we were still going at it.

Come Sunday morning I slid eggs and bacon under them as they came to life and randomly took their leave, sated from the arms of Maggie and the little man.

Then I slid him into his carseat, and pressed cheek to his and murmured things that Granpas do, and hugged Maggie hard.  She clear eyed and determined, me trying to lose the lump in my throat.  Talking awkwardly about weather and speed limits and five hour rides and Boxers in the backseat and love, and saying our byes.

And gone.  I went into the house and Ally was there, and the quiet.

How quiet it is here now.  Clock ticking quiet.

Like life rushed out of the front storm door and up a winding road.