July 1, 2005, I met my grandchildren and my stepdaughter, Heather, for the first time. She was having marital problems. We were there to bring her and her boys back to
"Where," I asked, looking around.
"There!" Ginny pointed.
I saw a beautiful young lady and two boys - ages three and five. They were the oldest of three boys. They stood staring at me, as Heather and Ginny hugged. Ginny turned to the boys and opened her arms, "Joshie! Seth Man! I missed you!"
They ran into her arms. It'd been a year since they'd seen their Gingin. Her hugs were needed. Grandmother hugs are the best. Ginny stood. Heather and the boys stared at me - the unknown grandpa. Ginny introduced me to her daughter. Heather was polite, but I could sense the doubt. Who was this man she didn't know? I would have to convince her, I wasn't replacing her dad. Her dad was in heaven now. I was just a man who loved her mom.
Ginny introduced me to Joshie and Seth. They were too shy to look at me. They stood, side-by-side, their eyes passing from Ginny and Heather, with only quick glances in my direction. Their eyes said it all, "Is that our new Poppa?"
We shared hugs and went back to their house, where I met Benny and his other grandma - Sonja. Benny was the youngest of the three and even more afraid of me.
The next day, the older boys were doing flips over my lap and laughing. Benny hugged Sonja, still scared of me. The following day, we packed the kids in the car and headed for
A year later, I sit here and write this story.
My life had changed. My house had been full of breakable and memorable things. In a few weeks they were gone. I hid them in closets and drawers. Our bedroom became a storage room. There are only so many times you can tell a child not to touch something before you realize, they can't help it. I just packed it all away!
Ginny and I used to spend an hour or two talking or reading when I came home from work, but with the grandkids here, we would always be interrupted. It was a new life. The quiet times were gone.
A year later, Heather and the boys are leaving on a new adventure. The boys are visiting their dad in Oklahoma and will join their mom in Idaho in a few months. Our house is empty. We have our life again - or do we?
I was up at 5 AM to see them off on their trip to see their dad. Their bags were packed and loaded in the car. I was up to see them off. We grabbed the last of their stuff, clamored down the steps and opened the car doors. Benny and Seth jumped in, excited about the trip and seeing their dad. I gave them the best hugs I could, considering they were in such a hurry. Tears formed in my eyes. They'd been a thorn in my feet, but I'd grown used to those thorns.
I buckled Benny in his car seat, stood, and heard, "Poppa Mike?"
I turned toward the voice. Joshie stood staring at me. He'd snuck around the back of the car. "Yes, Joshie?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, Joshie," I said. Big tears began to roll down my cheeks. "I love you too, buddy. I'll miss you. Be a good boy for your daddy."
The car pulled away. They were gone. I went back into the house and looked around. There were a few small toys scattered about. I saw a plastic block in a corner. In the kitchen was a pack of Crayons. Behind the sofa was a cart full of Lego's.
My house was bare of trinkets but full of memories.
A few days later, I sat in the living room and noticed the scratch marks on my teak coffee table. They were the marks from a "Bob the Builder" plastic saw. When I first saw those marks, I was so angry, I stomped out of the house and took a long walk to cool my temper. I thought of all the breakables hidden in closets. Memories of a broken lamp, stomping feet, yelling, screaming, crying, interrupted conversations, spilled drinks and sprayed food flashed through my mind. It had been a rough year for me. I had a hard time adjusting to having young kids in the house.
A little boy walked around the back of the car and said, "I LOVE YOU!"
The stress, cries, scratches on tables, stains in carpets, tablecloths cut with scissors, screams, nicks, marks, and broken furniture were forgiven. Three words said with meaning. That's all it took, just three powerful words - I LOVE YOU!
Michael T. Smith
To read more stories by Michael please visit: http://subs.zinester.com/86758/ or email him directly at: mtsmith@qwestonline.com
