My FIL moved into our home this last weekend. I told DH that for Christmas he got me a little old man. Have to say that after 10 years of working in the VA and then switching over to motherhood, I was a little lonely for saucy grey characters. I may withdraw this post as the months go on, but for now Grandpa is proving to be a delight.
Okay-there are drawbacks. He only washes the inside of the dishes. He ate the round of Brie I set aside for the holidays. He asks for Little Debbie cakes and cable television. He rearranged my living room. He's added a few colorful words to the household vocabulary...
However, Grandpa braved the roads to bring DH home from the hospital in a snow storm. (Could never duplicate that driver's test in Las Vegas.) He took pity on our pup and tried our tricks. (Except he only remembered "stay" and not release...poor dog "stayed" a long, long time.) He's already earned his keep as a babysitter.
But our little golden moment came the first morning I returned from dropping off the kids. Usually my sactuary of sanity- no husband, no children...just a messy house and me. But now Grandpa was here. What to expect? He came down the stairs calling an immediate request "Do you think I could light this yartzeit?" Now in front of me, "It's for my mother, she died on this day, Dec 15th and I have to light her memorial candle."
Suddenly caught in a Jewish moment without reference my temptation to call my Jewish mom friends passed over and I went with it. "Sure."
Grandma Bessie's candle came to life on my Christmas tablecloth in the middle of the advent wreath. A quick prayer and that was it. Her little light shined. Lucky for us Grandpa was here to remember.
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