My granddaughter and I are pretty good buddies.
In church on Sunday, she wanted me to hold her while we were standing and singing songs.
It made me realize that this was coming to an end. Not next Sunday, but it’s coming to an end. She is going to reach the height and weight where I won’t be able to hold her. And she’ll soon reach the age where she won’t want to be held by me. There’s an end date.
Maybe it’s because I reached another decade of age, but was reflecting on things I miss.
- I used to sing in some performance vocal groups. I miss the challenge and the ability to create music with a group of others.
- Believe it or not, I played adult basketball and softball. Miss the softball, my knees don’t miss the basketball.
- Miss being able to eat and then lose the weight. I still have the eating part nailed.
- This may sound weird, but I miss handwriting. I have a friend that sends a hand-written note on my birthday. My mom has beautiful handwriting and these notes in script are so much more special and personal. My dad’s handwriting is of legend. As kids, we would gather around the kitchen table to decipher the code of half letters, symbols, and cave writing. Solving the cryptogram could take hours or sometimes we’d give in and just ask mom what he wrote.
- I miss hair. Not that which springs up in the ears and nose, but that which was on the top of the head and actually washed and combed.
- Miss playing baseball catch. It’s a bit mindless, but it’s something you can do with and connect to your kids. There’s something soothing about the repetitive nature of simply playing catch.
- Certainly miss some friends. Whether due to circumstance or time or lack of life, there are friends that we lose connection to over the years.
- I miss the World Book Encyclopedia. We’d spend hours looking at pictures, reading articles, and searching for information. Now our phones have more access to information than all the World Books in the world.
- Sure they’re still available, but miss pencils – the smell of grinding your pencil to the stub, placing your teeth marks in the yellow paint, and ripping your paper due to eraser being used up and only metal exposed – ahhh.
I said to a friend, I think complete joy is a myth. It’s an expectation that is unreal to achieve. We need to get happiness from simple things. Take time to enjoy these moments, because they are as fleeting as a granddaughter on a Sunday morning.