This weekend we're traveling to Pennsylvania to pick up two of our grandchildren. Their younger sister, four-year-old Lucy, had surgery last Monday to correct a malformation in her brain. She's doing well but her recovery will be difficult and her mother needs to give her all the attention she can. Luckily for us, that means my daughter is going to give us her other children to bring home to stay with us for while. What a gift! We are thrilled.
When I was growing up, one set of grandparents lived here in East Hampton, but the other lived in Buffalo. It was a long trip and we didn't get to see them as often as I'm sure they would have liked, but I distinctly remember my mother sending my brother and me off on a trip to stay with them when I was very young - and I remember how much I adored them. I was so young that there are only a few visual memories (like the Buffalo Zoo, the bedroom I slept in, my grandfather reading me a bedtime story, and my grandmother sitting on the edge of the bed with me talking) but most importantly there is the distinct memory of the feelings I had while I was with them in their second floor apartment there. I felt loved and I loved them in return. When I was only five-years-old they moved to East Hampton so those were very early images and deeply ingrained feelings. I'm amazed by them now.
I look forward to creating those kinds of memories with these little ones that we don't get to see as often as the ones who live right here. (How blessed am I to be able to see those local kids anytime I want to!) I hope some day the Pennsylvania kids will remember a trip to the movie theater, or to a nice restaurant, or perhaps they'll remember the bedrooms I've decorated just for them. Most of all I hope they remember how loved the were. Isn't that what it's really all about?