It’s 11:00 in the evening and John and I are still sitting outside in the (finally) cool air. The house is closed up because of the heat, and the air conditioning is on, but we can’t stand the thought of going inside. So, here we sit on our newly constructed deck, under our trees. John built it to hold our “coup”, a 12x12 screened-in room that unfolds for the summer and folds up to be put away in storage for the winter. It has a vinyl top which keeps out the rain and allows us to enjoy the summer without the bother of bugs. Usually it is up by now, but John determined to us the old wood from our deconstructed family room and “repurpose” it for a platform to make the coup more stable. I was tired of seeing the pile of old beams in our yard (since 2008) and didn’t think they would really ever find a home. I planned to give John a deadline for doing something with the eyesore, but much to my delight he came up with this idea.
So, here we sit with lightening flashing and a raccoon coming down the tree, not 5 feet from me. I think he was tired of waiting for the old folks to go to bed. As John and I talk we affirm to each other that we are truly blessed and content. Our house is small and still needs some work, which will happen in due time as we put aside the money. But all in all, we are thankful for what we have. Our children are our best friends and our grandchildren have brought us the delight of reliving the experience of raising our own children. Yesterday, John and Ryan spent ½ hour throwing rocks into our local creek which probably meant as much to John as he recalled his own childhood throwing rocks into creeks and rivers and delighting in every splash. It’s funny how having grandchildren triggers memories of one’s own childhood more that parenthood does. It must be a luxury of sorts. We grandparents do not live under the tyranny of the urgent, but can step back and enjoy the process of watching childhood unfold.
And now I have to end this and head inside. The lightening is getting closer and John has left me to blow out the candles. Tomorrow, Lord willing, we will erect the coup. And tomorrow night Lord willing, I hope to spend the night sleeping under the vinyl and enjoying the evening breeze.