Our family vacation started on July 13. Because of varying availability, family staggered in and out until the very end, until we eventually saw the faces of every single child, spouse, and grandchild. Today, out of twenty people, only four remain. It has been thirteen days of activity. Laughs. Swimming. Shopping. Take-out meals and washing towels. Forty-six towels we will fold today. And that is just a conservative estimate.
Of the four left, two are adults. Our daughter and her husband. Their precocious five-year-old and their happy, sometimes demanding two-year-old. Last night, my daughter helped me gather towels from poolside, tub-side and even floor side. She cleaned out the fridge. Her husband wielded the vacuum like a sword. And then we tried to play in those last golden moments of family blessings.
Each family vacation, Tony and I play a little less. Eventually Tony jumped into the lake. Eventually, he slid into the pool. I did pilates with the girls, but I only did 3/4 of the reps. We watched as the kids outrageously bounced on the inner tube pulled by a boat. We didn't even pretend that we too would take a turn. They politely asked, but no one insisted or called us chicken. They knew it was wise and Dad would get injured.
During one of the quieter afternoons, Tony brought his mother to the house. She didn't know where she was or really who she was with, but she sensed the love and belonging. It was a chance for our children to see the grandmother who had once been a vibrant part of our life. She didn't stay long, and soon Tony took her back to her care facility. Having her was good and right. But it was also a blunt interjection into a family gathering. It was a reminder of the circle of life, the circle that gives and then takes away.
A few days after, our youngest daughter came to me and said, "I read a meme that said you're living the best part of your life if your children are young and your parents are still healthy. That is where I'm at, and I'm so grateful."
I sense she too saw the inevitability, sadness and joy of that circle of life. They probably wondered what they will do with Dad if he becomes like his mom.
There are positives that happen in the shifting parental role. As we lessen, our children become greater. They take on more responsibility. They're more appreciative. They still brutally tease, but that is a good thing. When they stop teasing...
I sense they talk about us differently when out of earshot. And I sense they are sad. For that sadness is genuine, for in it, they can see their own role in the circle of life. Their children will become adults, teenagers, and all too soon, they will be grandparents. They will start to feel old. And then they will reach the threshold of old.
My daughters think, like I did, that they can beat aging. One has used botox. They cover and lather with sunblock. They dry brush their faces. They go to the gym and they hike.
I encourage their efforts. I am proud of who they are.
But one day, they too will realize, and give in. The giving in brings a kind of peace. A letting go. A surrender. The recognition and inevitability of their own vulnerability, their parents passing on... and then there were none.
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