Vacation's End
Yesterday went well. I think. By the grup (grown-up) measure, at least. With the awareness that this was our good-bye party, the GKs embraced the day fully, tweaking their photo albums and acting like they were on a farm instead of in a 3 bedroom barrio duplex. GD (3) is already showing the cellulite rolls which are the new welfare norm. I wonder if she will be waddling like the 4 disabled grownups who share her inner-city apartment by the next time I see her. Obesity creates a very distinctive waddle, wherever it is found. Seems to me it is an inter-species phenom. The waddle of an obese pet appears to be similar to an obese human waddle to my eye. Equally, the living waddle of one who has never had well toned muscles appears to look different than well toned muscles left to languish. Despite having been raised by a morbidly obese woman, I don't believe I'd ever seen childhood obesity until my own children were in school in the 80s and 90s. Even then, I only saw it from a distance. Do I have a right to feel a bit sad that my granddaughter might be my first up close and personal look at childhood obesity?
Leaving all that to fate, I work to calm my anxieties and not wish too hard for the departure ordeal to be over. The waiting is the hardest part. Hubs has meetings in the corporate halls this week, so he will be taking the GKs to the other grandparents while I ? ? ? What will I do this week? ? ? Kinda wondering if I should head to the River Region. The crest is building. We see what grows.
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And they are gone. Perhaps forever this time.
A game GS and I have shared since he was a toddler is a parody built on the toddler bye-bye drama. He specifically asked for that game this morning and I told him I couldn't because this time I needed to cry for real. Why? Because this time you don't like the farm any more. His ensuing melodrama built on, "I DO love the farm bounced him across the double bed mattress on the lower bunk, into the sky bed to poke at the kid's map of "Our World" near the ceiling as he asked, "Where will you be, Old Gypsy Ma.?"
I climbed into the sky bed for another tour of "Our World." After we toured the minute distances between here and his hometown, we began routing our path to the Sichuan Panda Refuge marked on the map by an adorable panda picture in the middle of China. He declared that two weeks on a cruise ship made much more sense than travelling in a fishing trawler. Makes sense to me.
As we belted them into Hubby's truck for the southward drive, GS asked again why I needed to cry for real this time, I responded with a kiss, "Because I will miss you so much."
What more needs to be said? I wish I could shake the feeling I will never see them again. I just a gringo. Not the first family members I amnae ethnic enough for. I donae even know all the racial slurs I have been given by family members. Perhaps one day I will understand.