LAUGHTER AT ITS BEST

The most wonderful part of being a grandparent is that it almost always is a part-time job.

You get to hold, hug, hover, and hurrah - but at some point, you also get to go home.

Alone.

Since my own grandchildren are 896 miles away (give or take a mile or so), I occasionally play Grannie to a little one at church.

And yes, I do try to pick a baby off of the most exhausted or frustrated young mother at services.

Sunday, I indulged my insane inclination to baby-nap, and took over one of my favorite babies - Obadiah (cool name, eh?) - in Sunday School.

And could not keep myself from making him giggle - again, and again, and again.

Which made everyone in the class smile - again, and again, and again.

It was great.

We need to do more giggling at church.

And since I work with 14 and 15 year old girls at church, I get to do a lot of it already.

TEN THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY

 

So were you counting? Did you notice there is only nine? (Well, my grandkids count as two)

Yeah, but... well, who cares?

A LITTLE RED-HAIRED BOY

I admit to checking out the people boarding the same airplane as myself.

I mean, if we crash in the middle of the Pacific and end up spending six years on a beautiful tropical island that amazingly resembles the North Shore of Oahu, I would like to know in advance who the Sawyers and Lockes of the groups are - as well as getting on Sayid and Jack's good side - and how to eliminate Benjamin Linus right away.

No, seriously, I just look at people and just randomly wonder if the 395 lb. guy is going to be sitting next to me - what way I could offer my sole talent of putting babies to sleep to the mom traveling with a newborn without coming across as a kidnapper-weirdo - if there is ANY way the Australian couple with the lovely lovely accents can be directly behind me on my left side (my hearing side) - and how could so many of these people afford to sit in first-class and I can't?!

 

I go through the normal frustration of being rushed onto the plane so we can leave on-time but then be forced to stand in the cramped aisle while waiting for everyone in front of you load tons of stuff into the overhead, make certain they have a pillow and blanket, and ask the airline attendant (who is frantically trying to get all passengers situated before the plane actually takes off) each and every question that they will cover in their little 'pre-flight' lecture that most of us have memorized from being on multiple flights.

When we finally got seated, a little red-haired boy in the row ahead of me turned around and asked me loudly what my name was, told me his name was Brent, and proceeded to throw his hands high in the air as the plane began lift-over over the ocean.

Brent was true entertainment the entire six hours - he was continually grinning from ear-to-ear, he was always interested in something, he played his GameBoy for hours without any help, and only occasionally (about every five minutes) yelling hello to his mom and dad, who sat across the aisle.

I wouldn't have picked Brent out of the waiting crowd as the person who helped this be one of the happiest flights I have ever been on.

Thanks, Brent.

YOU SAY GOODBYE AND I SAY HELLO

I'm using the expression "a senior moment" more and more. I hate to admit how many times I walk into a room and cannot remember what in the (#&%@ I went into that room for. I'm in mid-story and completely forget the point I was ending towards. Even when I am writing a blog, I will get in mid-paragraph and begin thinking about those clogs that I always wear to church and should I try something different maybe in green and did the cat get fed today?

But there are some great things about short-term memory loss.

One thing I love about babies is that they will laugh every time you make the same ridiculous face - regardless of how often you have made it, and perhaps because how stupid you look making it.

My dog, even if he has watched me just walk out of the room, will jump up wagging his tail the instant I walk back in.

Najale, my 985 lbs. lap-horse will, regardless of how many times he gets smacked for it, always nips the back of my shirt. He never actually bites - he just wants to play.

Wait a minute, where was I again?

Oh, yes.

Think of the expression on your mom's face when you pick her up at the airport.

Well, maybe not after a seven-hour flight seated next to overweight man who snored through both movies with his head on her shoulder.

But like how happy your child looks as soon as he spots you in the audience of his first-grade class play where he is portraying Christopher Columbus discovering America.

At least before the Native American League begins protest alongside the Vikings Discovered America First, completely disrupting the entertainment and dissolving the six-year-olds into hysterics as the police come in to remove them from the auditorium.

But you get the point, right? Someone who loves you, who is happy to see you, whose face simply lights up just at the sight of you?

Yesterday, I saw a lot of faces who were saying goodbye to a 29 year old young father, son and husband.

And I think most of us at the funeral got a glimpse, just a
poignant moment and hint of how many joyful expressions are simply beaming as they greet him on the other side of the veil.