“I’m here!” – My Grandson
Look at Me!
“I’m here!” He said with exuberance, while standing directly to my left.
I was sitting in our family room upon his arrival. As is often the case, I was still working at home into the evening. Though I knew he was there, I didn’t look over at him; keeping my eyes fixed on a lifeless screen.
A few moments passed. I was still looking at that screen, concentrating, without acknowledging him. I was just finishing up a response and was so engrossed that I didn’t stop to think about the feelings of my treasured grandson. And, what a miracle it was to have him there.
It was a miracle, because his arrival in our home marked the first full day he had been released from the children’s hospital. He had spent four days there, clinging to life for two of those days. During that time, his normal effervesce had evaporated. I knew it was vanished, because I had spent hours sitting next to his bed, examining his ashen face for signs of improvement. And, hoped-for progress was slow coming, like waiting for Christmas Day to arrive, as sleep was banished by excitement, for the entire eve.
We were all worried for his welfare day, evening and night. We dropped all things that were proven to be lacking in importance, as compared to our cherished boy. Yet, a couple of days hence where showing me to be fickle, at the very least. Oh, how short the memory of an old man can be, even without medically diagnosed memory loss. Luckily, that was about to change as a result of the persistence of youth.
“Look at me!” He said in exasperation.
Like a mule kick to the head, without the accompanying, imprinted hoof mark, I finally received his message.
He was saying, “I’m not invisible, even though you are pretending me to be!”
So, I put my screen down, in its place, out of my hands.
“I know you are!” I responded. “I’m so happy to see you! Thanks for coming to visit.”
Then, I dragged my old bones out of their comfortable seated position and took a couple of steps over to him, to scoop him up in gratitude, as a gesture of love. It was a simple gesture, aimed at thanking him for his patience with me.
This episode also reminded me of a conversation with a friend who had become crippled with age; who before was a celebrated athlete. I asked him once how he made it through his days in such pain with shadow. He responded with a simple comment.
“I do what’s important and let everything else go!”
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