“Change of Plans”

My great-grandson will be finishing up his residency soon. He is an Internal Medicine specialist. He has been away from his family and working hard for seven long years. In this great-grandmother’s opinion, the hospital where he accepts a position will be “darn lucky” to have him!
Years ago when our children and even grandchildren, were grown up, his generous mother trusted us to take him on vacation with us for several summers.

I’m remembering many years ago watching this great-grandson and a new friend building a sandcastle on the beach. After a while, the girl asked, “Are you his grandparents?”
“No,” I replied. “ We’re his great-grandparents.”
“Whoa” she said, “Well, isn’t anyone else here with you all?”
“No, he’s just here with us.” I answered.
“Whoa”
That had been my reaction exactly back then when someone in our family asked our nine- year- old great-grandson if he wanted to go with my husband and I on our annual trip to California. His parents were expecting a new baby and I confess it took a while for the idea to grow on me, then I got busy and changed hotel and plane reservations to include a great-grandchild.
His Daddy delivered the youngster on our doorstep the evening before our flight. My husband tried to lift his backpack. He couldn’t. “What on earth do you have in here?”
“Some trail mix, an electronic fishing game, a gum making kit, three shell reference books, five story books, cookies (all melted together) and my world map.”
The trail mix, one shell book, and the world map were allowed to stay.
At Laguna Beach he played in the surf with a little boy from Russia. We had a world geography lesson back in the room where his great-grandfather helped him locate Russia on the world map. We were used to hearing different dialects spoken on the boardwalk, but our great-grandson was fascinated with the many languages he heard. One evening he saw a large group of women wearing beautiful long dresses with scarves covering their hair and part of their face. He asked their guide about them and learned they were from Jordan; and were the wives of a Sultan. When we got back to the hotel that evening, out came the map again.

He persuaded us to try different ethnic restaurants that we had always passed by. He was willing to order and finish exotic new dishes. We found we all enjoyed the variety. Looking at familiar sights through the fresh eyes of a nine year old brought exhilarating sparkle to our yearly trip. We didn’t have our yearly romantic get-away, but we had lots of fun.
We explored the tide pools in early light of dawn. We learned to chase the surf and quickly gather shells before another wave came crashing in. Our paddle ball skills were honed to perfection. Luckily, I only had to explain once that each person washed the sand out of his own swimsuit and hung it out to dry. Best of all, we had someone always willing to go after ice!
The trail mix in his backpack came in handy when our return flight waited in line on the tarmac at the Newport airport for two hours and we missed lunch.
On the trip home I knew we had passed a kind of milestone when my great-grandson turned to me and asked, “Grandma, could we go to the Grand Canyon next July?”
“Well, maybe so. Haven’t you been there?”
“No, then we could take the trip.”
“What trip is that, Honey?”
“You know, the mule ride to the bottom.”
Lucky for me his family went on vacation the next summer.

NOTE: Maybe he can take that mule trip down the canyon trail with his little daughter someday!