The Sunfilled Heart of a Grandparent

We lived in a two family on the second floor and it was full of magic.....
One day the snow was as white as a gallant prince, with the sun making it almost too blind to see. Crunch was the sound I heard, so new and different. I loved the sound of rubber "over boots" as they rocked toe~heel across the untouched walk way. There was no salt at that time. Snow used to stay white forever, except for the yellow stains from the neighboring dogs. Now, things are reversed. We have no yellow stains because there are leash laws, and we have no white snow because there is road salt.

Except for today.

I am on babysitting duty, so I drove my grandson two towns over for school this morning. All the major roads were plowed down to bare pavement after the blizzard yesterday. Easy driving. Then I took a left onto Plain Street, and the snow crunched under my wheels. The sound instantly transported me to the time when I was 6. I remembered Dad driving me to school and there were tire ruts in all the streets. I could still hear the chains on the wheels of the cars. I could still feel the frosty bite on my cheeks. That is because after a snowfall like yesterday's, the following day is bright, and oh so cold. I could still smell, yes smell the fresh snow just like it smelled that day when I was little. "Plain Street" had not been plowed to pavement this morning, and it was wonderful. The spit of white snow flying behind the tires of the car in front of me was so welcoming compared to the modern brown, wet, salt drenched, water of today's travel. The kind that sprays your windshield dirty, and no matter how much window washer you use, it is never clean until April. Today the white spit was beautiful, and it matched the heavy laden branches of the trees above, that tickled us as we drove by. Magic. Serene. Beautiful!


I took a lazy ride back home while Carly slept in the back seat. When we arrived at my house, the sun streamed into the kitchen of the 20's bungalow, and I was nostalgic. I could smell the yeast dough in my trash. I had thrown it out in it's semi frozen state because of our power outage yesterday, and it had risen there overnight. I immediately thought, I cannot let that go to waste. I proceeded to promptly pluck it from it's bed, and gave a piece to Carly to make memories of her own. She used the child's kitchen set and rolled it out, and pinched it, and marked it all her own. She added some rice accoutrement's, and made a dream for herself. As I watched I decided to take photos...quick photos, for her to enjoy at a later time in her life. I wonder if she will remember the sound of her giggle? I can't promise this will become one of the memories she has of sunshine on her back, but I can tell you it will be in my treasure trove of being a grandma. Oh the brightness of a snowy sun-filled heart.

ps. I would never have done this with my own children....oh the brightness of being a grandma.
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2 comments:

Shelia said...

I understand those words, of not letting your children do it. I think we are telling our age when we talk of chains on the tires and no salt to melt the ice. But isn't it a good age. Some things I would change, but all in all my life has been filled with brightness. Thanks again for awakening the sleeping memories in my soul. Carley is a cutie. Yes she will remember it, she may not talk of it but she will remember it, just as her Grandmother is doing by journaling those wonderful memories of her life.

Andrea L - EnchantINK said...

LOL ... I guess that is the nice thing about being a g'ma! You have the time to be able to stop and enjoy the moment! It is Thanks for sharing this special time ... it has helped me to anticipate more keenly the birth of my 1st grandchild in April. I worry that I won't "relate" ... that I am too "old" ... or that they won't like me??? I guess until it happens I won't understand that overwhelming feeling of love ... that we also had when our own children were born. I can only imagine that it will be the same! Treasure these special memories, Donna! Hugs xxaxx