Visiting With The Old Folks

She says she is excited, really looking forward to Tuesday. She's already packed her bags. Two bags, one for her favourite little blankies, worn now from so many years of use, but still security-functional. And oh yes, her favourite Teddy Bear. Decided against her soft fluffy pillow; she'll take her chances with what we've got here. Besides which, she reminded me, we've got some of her old blankies from when she was a toddler on the top shelf of the linen closet closest to the room she'll be sleeping in.

That room, not the one she always used to sleep in when she was an infant, then a toddler, when I put her down for a blessed afternoon nap, giving me a chance to catch my breath. She prefers to sleep in the room with the double-size bed. Twin-size beds are anathema to her. That's fine, I don't mind where she sleeps, as long as she's comfortable and comforted. It's March break next week and at ten and a half years of age she's not old enough to be left at home alone.

Her mother has to go to work, and her mother's companion has decided to take his son to Toronto with him, to stay with family there for a few days. He doesn't want his son to lose touch with his extended family on his father's side, now that he and his mother have been long separated. It's no longer as simple as it once was for families now that it's become so common for families to separate, to become blended families. It's no longer as simple as it once was for her mother to drop her off at our place daily, on her way to work. She lives now at the opposite end of the city.

So we'll go downtown on Tuesday and pick our grandchild up at her mother's place of work, bring her back here with us and have her sleep over for the next three or four days, until the following week-end. It's been slightly more than a year since we looked after her on a daily basis. She misses being at our house, but not all that much. She has a different life now, one that doesn't include us on the daily menu.

But she remembers so many things about her recent past when we were together each week day. She is excited that her memories will be refreshed, she can re-acquaint herself with this house that she so loves. Wanted to know if that old square wood box is still in the black lacquer court cupboard, the one she used to put her weekly allowance in. I reminded her she had gone on a spending spree at Winners and there wasn't much left in the box, but it's still there.

Only pennies left, and she generously tells me that's all right, why don't we use the money for ourselves? However, in anticipation of her visit we've already loaded it down with toonies and loonies, about $15-worth which she'll be able to spend on books when we take her on a shopping expedition. She reminded me last night of her favourite lunch, spicy breadcrumb-coated chicken breast strips and grated onion-potato, stir-fried.

I've already loaded up on fruit-bottom yoghurt, chocolate milk, almond-chocolate bars, for treats, but I plan to bake cookies when she's here, so she can 'help', clean out the bottom of the mixing bowl and spatula of the batter left over. We'll prepare a dinner consisting of egg-rolls filled with snowpeas, bean sprouts, grated onion, carrot, potatoes. I'll discuss some elements of the dinner-time menu with her; she likes anything with chicken and I'll make chicken-balls with a mushroom sauce served over rice for another meal.

I've loaded up on her favourite fruit, Royal Gala apples, fresh pineapple, loads of luscious strawberries, so she can chomp away to her heart's content. Food plays a very large role in her conscious well-being and the important things of life. Here's hoping I can convince her that a side-dish of asparagus won't hurt her, that she can leave the grape tomatoes if she wants to, but she really has to eat the rest of her salad ingredients. She's the kid, I'm the granma.

There's a new family on our street with children she's never seen nor met, and I have high hopes that she and they may want to spend some time together. On the telephone last night I mentioned their names: Tessa, Michaela, Alexei. Names unfamiliar to her, and she queried them, but when I said they're children of mixed parentage she thought that was a perfectly acceptable explanation; another culture, another tradition, different names.

I've pre-warned her that I wasn't put on this earth to entertain her. We'll do things together of course, but she has to keep herself busy too. She also has to go up to bed at a decent time, and not fall asleep on the sofa downstairs, something she often does at home. She has agreed to these house-rules. All the games we used to play together, the old board games are now at her house, not ours. And most of her beloved books to which we've been adding over the past year as she matures as a reader.

And we've always got the ravine for recreation. When she was a baby I used to carry her through the ravine in a baby backpack strapped on my back. And for most of the years of her life she toddled, then walked, then strode through the pathways and trails of the ravine with us each day. We're hoping she'll want to spend time in there too with Alexei, Michaela and Tessa, since we saw them there at the last bridge yesterday just as we completed our circuit.

Michaela always wants to come to our house, since we first met her with her mother and siblings after they moved in and took them on a tour. I've told her all about our Angelyne. We'll see what transpires.