The Party
I remember as a boy traveling to visit my grandparents in San Antonio. Four boys, two adults in a two bedroom, no bath home. There was an outhouse. Pallets on the floor for the kids. It was wonderful. Yesterday, I spent my first night in my daughter and son-in-law’s new home. There was a mattress on the floor for me. Three bathrooms. Lots of room. I was upstairs. It was quiet. It was wonderful.
The cause for my journey was a party yesterday to celebrate the finalization of the adoption of Seth and Blossom. There were ya-ya’s, aunt’s, uncles, cousins, nephews, nieces, a god-daughter, friends. It was lovely. The children ran and played in their new, big yard. We ate pulled pork, drank a beer or two, but mostly just talked and visited. And watched the kids out of the corner of our eyes. My son brought his sister the dining table once owned by my wife’s mother, their maw-maw. An heirloom. It’s where I’m writing this morning.
I like it that my children are sentimental about the past, the things once owned by people they loved. I brought my daughter her mother’s DAR memorabilia. It’s a big new home with lots of walls for stuff like that. And as I sit here looking at the new house, I can see proms, and parties, and sleepovers. Music, laughter, and love. All the things that make a house a home. And I’m happy these two children will be given all that and I hope their days are happy and I look forward to being part of it. Grandpa. A nice job to have for two new children.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale