A little dip in the fountain of youth

Growing older is not for the weak of heart. Absolutely no pun intended.

 

I love to share ideas for “Chapter Two” as well as activities and adventures that my friends and I have. I rarely write about health issues – ours and those of dear people in our lives – but I certainly could. We are much more aware of our own mortality now, and it’s not easy.

 

Sometimes a dip into a fountain of youth is needed.  

 

And we recently got our toes wet when our six-year-old grandson spent a week with us. It was déjà vu to the max as he looks and acts exactly like our son at that age. 

 

The visit required some adjusting to different meal planning, less sleep, and being more active. That was for us, not him. He was just himself – a busy, picky eating, smart, observant, argumentative but oh, so loving, kid. 

 

He insisted that he could watch “scary stuff” on his iPad and on TV but he was afraid to sleep in a bedroom by himself. We set up a mattress in our room next to our bed for him so he could be nice and cozy. But somehow, in the wee hours, he ended up in our bed where the

three of us (don’t forget the dog!) were already snoring away. He is a cuddle bunny and soon always ended up wrapped around one of us. One morning I woke up with his smooth little cheek pressed against my wrinkled one, his soft breathing barely audible. I didn’t want to

move. I wanted to stay that way forever.

 

I tried not to wonder how long it would last: that he would want to come and stay with us, that we would be a special adventure in his life.  

 

He told me that he loved the way I smell. He said he wanted to stay longer. He asked if we could move to Indianapolis and live next door to him. He said my oatmeal and my grilled cheese were the best he ever had.  

 

He also argued about taking a bath, putting away his iPad, and bedtime. He always said he wasn’t tired.  

 

I was tired to the bone. There is a reason that 70-year-olds don’t have young kids, but during that week I didn’t think about my aches and pains or my mortality. I just thought about how lucky I was to be able to relive 32 years ago when I probably didn’t have enough time to

appreciate that active, other, beautiful little boy, as much as I do now.  

 

Eventually he had to leave. He said he will be back when my lemon tree blooms because he loves lemons and we can bake “sour cakes.”  

 

Crying does not leave your eyes looking pretty at my age. But my little dip in the fountain of youth left my heart so much younger.

 

Vicki Bernie is a freelance writer, wife, mother, grandmother, and dog person...loving “Chapter Two” on Daniel Island.