Time Well Spent

This past weekend was one of those rare weekends where I was able to spend time with some of my favorite people. But it was also one of those weekends where I realize that there may not be too many more like it. It was college homecoming, which I do not get very excited about, old school acquaintances getting together and lying about how great their kids, jobs, spouses (although, there are a few that apparently took a mulligan on the first attempt in the spouse area)
What I found was a weekend where I could spend time with my dad, my son, and my grandson.

Dad and I ran errands. This is what he loves to do. He cannot sit still. He volunteers for "Meals on Wheels" because it is essentially running errands. He goes from one place to another dropping off meals to those who can't get out. He especially loves the dialysis center because he can drop off several at once. He also volunteers at the local pantry, he loves going to Kiwanis, you get the drift. So I ride along. We visit about old friends (some I can remember, others I'm not sure I've ever met) weather, what wildlife has wandered up to the house (he still owns about 12 acres of the farm and still lives there) just stuff. At 86 he is still active and fun and I enjoy being with him. He teaches me more about living life forward than anyone I know.

My son is a slightly different story. He is vested full bore in his career, his lovely wife, and their shared lives. So our opportunity to see each other is limited. There are two things that always impress me: 1. that he can and will spend time, with unending patience, with any generation. He can visit with my dad and my grandson with equal ease. One minute he is helping dad put up chairs and tables, the next he is playing baseball (or a version of it) with my grandson (his nephew). I have never been able to handle all that very gracefully. And 2. He is a man without guile. He simply cannot lie. We discovered this when he was little, he discovered it as well, so he simply does not respond if he feels uncomfortable with it. Do you know how rare this is? I live and work in a world of shifting truth, people trying to take advantage. But my son is a welcome and, I have to admit, a bit of a respite from my world. So we talk of his work, his struggles with being a man of integrity in a world of compromised morals. I am proud of his willingness to set and keep standards. It simply is who he is.

And there is the golden afternoon with my grandson down on the creek. Where do we lose the awe in seeing things new? We shot the BB gun at cactus, cans, leaves in the water, sticks, trees, nothing was safe (except me, I kept one hand on the gun and stood safely to one side) Then we ran out of BB's. So we rigged up a fishing pole, but could find no bait. Apparently my hyper-active dad had roto-tilled all the worms out of the garden. So I sent Eli to the house to get a couple of slices of bread, which we would ball up into small portions of bait. I carried the pole, Eli the bread. Big mistake. When we got back to the creek, he had eaten most of the bread because "his teeth needed it" How can you argue with a dental emergency? So one bite from a fish and all our bait was gone. So we went back to the house to get more"bait." Eli gave me careful instructions which hand should carry the "bait" and which should carry snack. I think I got it right. We caught a poor hapless catfish, took pictures, then Eli threw him back in grow a little.

Four generations. One weekend. Time well spent. My dad won't be here always, my son will only have more demands as kids and life come along and my advice will become less relevant, my grandson will hit an age where being with Grandaddy will be a drag.
So I stored this one away. Perhaps another "bend in the road" is not too distant, but for now, these generations are well placed, and well enjoyed. This is one that did not get away.
Godspeed.
Don