Grandchildren

I reap the whirlwind which I have sown, the thunder of mountain streem overflowing with spring runoff, the cacaphony of seagulls fighting over scraps be they at the seashore or at the dump, the screaming of overworked engines at a NASCAR race. My grandchildren have been and conquered, laying waste to the tidy landscape of my small apartment, leaving behind small bits of Lego, parrts of other toys, colouring books, crayons, food scraps. They came in with the whirlwind; now they are gone.

Just abruptly as they came in, they have left. Meaghan and Lewis shepherding Charlotte and Orson down to their car, into their carseats, on the road again. The quiet is immense. That raging mountain torrent turned to a trickle, that cacaphony of gulls satiated and silent, those screaming engince quieted at the end of the race. The silence is immense, near engulfing. All I have is the odd rush of a car going by on the street below. I need to turn on Paw Patrol, loud. I need to search the floor for bits and pieces, be they toys or food snacks.

Now I have to wait three long days while they visit thier other grandparents down in Lethbridge. Then once again my small apartment will bear the brunt of Ninjango or whatever else they can find on Netflix. Once again we will scramble into the van and go on an adventure. Once again little mouths will refuse to eat what I have cooked, wanting instead the familiar foods from Mom. They will be here Tuesday evening and Wednesday, departing Thursday once again to the coast, home.

I love it when they visit. I am disappointed when they leave. Sure, the presence of small children in my home can be challenging, especially when I have to explain why I have a bag filled with pee attached to my bed, or why I can't pick them up and put them on my lap like I did last year. Yet all these, and many more questions can be given simple answers. I have a bag because that's how I go pee now. I can't pick them up because I'm not as strong as I was last year.

With any luck I will see them this summer, for my daughter Kate's wedding party. I will likely be less able to pick them up, less able to do anything. But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy them, can't smile at their antics and wonder at their energy. Grandchildren are like that.