Sailing and grandkids.
The persistent themes of this blog.
Today Tillerwoman found a canvas bag at the back of a closet that apparently came from the Laser US Masters Championship in 2008. So, being a curious kind of fellow, I just had to look up where that regatta was sailed.
New Bedford YC apparently.
I even wrote three blog posts about it.
My Best Friend
Dirty Duck
Blindsided
There's lots of entirely forgettable stuff about sailing in those three posts.
But the parts that still struck a chord with me were the parts where I wrote about my (then) only grandchild, Emily.
Emily and me at the beach
A few years ago
After the first day of the regatta...
Then home for lamb chops and salad with Tillerwoman, Cutest Granddaughter in the World, Tiller-Son#1, and Tiller-Daughter-in-Law who had all come to see us for the weekend.
Apparently Cutest Granddaughter in the World had been asking where I was. When told that I was sailing she had said, "Grandad is my best friend."
Life is good.
And after the second day of the regatta...
I skipped the Saturday night regatta dinner at the yacht club and went home as my son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter were still at my house.
My two-year-old granddaughter Emily must have missed me because I was the center of her attention all evening. "I want to do something with you Grandad," she was saying before I was barely in the door. Hmmm. I needed to rinse my sailing clothes. Emily likes to play with hosepipes. So I let her spray water all over my sailing gear (and occasionally me) and she was deliriously happy.
I was even chosen to be the one to put her to bed and tell her bedtime stories. So I told her about when her father was a little boy and how he and his brother used to ride on my Laser sitting in front of the mast. And how we went camping in France with the Laser and the boys sailed on a lake with me. And how when her father was seven I bought him a green, wooden Optimist whose name was Dirty Duck and how he used to sail that all by himself.
Her last words before she drifted off to sleep were, "Maybe one day I can have a dirty duck?"
Emily's father in Dirty Duck
A lot of years ago
Smart, funny, kind, loving, creative Emily is ten now.
Her passions these days are dancing and acting and friends, not sailing.
We never did buy her a "Dirty Duck."
When we went over to my son's house yesterday I only saw Emily for a few minutes before she was out of the door, going to a sleepover with a friend.
I have five other grandkids now.
Two of them are two years old.
Emily's little brother Andrew - one of those two-year-olds - still wants to play with me.
He has a leg in a cast right now, so we couldn't do anything very active.
But he does like to cuddle up to me and watch videos with me on my computer.
His favorites are "Three Little Fishes" and "Day One of the Total Domination 2015 Moth US Nationals at the Gorge."
No, really.
Day One Total Domination Moth US Nationals from Nick Bowers on Vimeo.
He even knows when to grunt "Huh" like the singer does.
Maybe we will be buying him a Waszp one day?
Andrew at the beach
This year
This year
Sailing and grandkids.
The more things change the more they stay the same.
In other news, Tillerwoman has thrown my 2008 Laser US Masters bag away.
6 comments:
Zoom Zoom,
I think you've found that memories last longer than old sailing bags.
They're made of more durable stuff.
Their colors don't fade. Their threads don't unravel. The most determined closet cleaner, anxious to clear space for newer things, can't disturb them. But keep them in a safe place, anyway.
Some day, when you've filled all the closets with all the new stuff you can gather, they'll be the only things you really care about.
Very poetic and very true O Docker. I hope the happy memories I now have of playing with all my grandchildren will not fade. Reading my old blog posts helps to refresh them.
In other good news, the Connecticut granddaughters are coming to see us for July 4th.
I feel sad and glad after reading this post.
Our first grandchild is due in August in NZ. He/she is half Kiwi/Aussie so I'm expecting an amazing baby who grows into a world dominating sailor.
Although I would prefer that the Tasman isn't going to separate us during those precious early years.
Congrats Barubi.
I know what you mean Joe.
Although it is inevitable that grandkids will grow up and although I am immensely proud of the amazing people that the older grandkids have become, it is also true that there is something special about the love of a 2-year-old for their grandparents.
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