Fire Fly Magic

After almost 3 weeks on Mamma hip watch I returned home in the company of Son, Middle and Youngest grandsons.  The boys could see Grandpa sitting on the front porch as we turned onto our street.  The car was barely stopped before the doors were opening and boys racing from Grandpa.  Hugs, kisses and high fives all around.  Even a request by Middle for a personal fishing trip was made within minutes.

It had been a peacefully, delightful 6 + hour trip from the Dallas area to our home in the Ozarks.  Of course there were the usual are we there yet and how much further questions.  No, still 10 Phineas and Ferbs to go.  There was even the occasional he touched me or he looked at me.  But it really was a no blood drawn kind of trip.  Obviously, road trips are the perfect application for videos and itouch entertainment.

We did discuss such things as the tornado in Moore as we passed near some of the damage.  Beetle colors and claim of ownership for spotting it were randomly shouted.  We searched for hawks, one of Grandpa's pass times when driving.  Son and I never figured out how Dad/husband could spot a hawk on a tree a quarter mile off the road and not ever lose control of the car or swerve into oncoming traffic.

As we drew nearer to Grandpa and my home the boys began saying things they remembered from their visit in 2010.  The pond and fish in my back yard had made impressions on both boys.  Youngest grandson remembered falling in the pond.  Most other facts were not accurate about our home.  It included facts from homes of other old people in their lives.  I found that mix up very amusing.  Middle grandson just knew we had a big two story house.  Nope, that was a great grandma from the mom's side.  Then it turned into almost a guessing game.

The building of memories for these boys is a driving force some days.  Before leaving the Dallas area the four of us visited my Mom in the hospital.  She was sitting in a wheelchair, fully clothed and smiling ear to ear when Middle and Youngest gave her hugs.  She was equally pleased to see Son, also called her Road Buddy.  They had made many summer trips each year when we would let Son spend 2 to 4 weeks with my parents and sisters in the Dallas area.

As we visited Son asked her to tell how she killed two diseased cats with one shot.  Mom obliged by recounting how my dad had shown her how to aim the double barrel shotgun.  Dad left for the fields telling mom to watch for the cats and shoot them if possible.  Never one to just sit and wait, Mom set out a saucer of fresh milk from one of the family cows.  Sure enough, the cats showed up for the milk.  Mom took aim and one shot took out both cats.  Tomorrow we will pull out the shotgun and show the boys the gun Great Granny Mary used to get the cats.

After a rousing game of Mario Brothers memory, bar-b-que ala Grandpa and baths, the daylight was almost a memory.  In that twilight time Son sent the boys out into my backyard garden in search of lightning bugs.  What joy for the us adults to watch the boys chase and catch the little bits of light.  Some folks call them fire flies.  But for Middle and Youngest they were magical.  And in those brief few minutes another simple childhood memory was made for another generation.