On the Road Again . . .

On October 2nd, Gene and I packed up our car -- clothes, ice chest, laptop, books, Christmas gifts, pillows, and more than we needed to take -- and headed for California to enjoy a long-awaited visit with our kids and grandkids whom we hadn't seen since early March.

Pictured here is our daughter and her family: Carol and Joe, with Victoria (age 11-1/2), Madison (age 7) and Katie (age 5).

And this is our son and his family: Mike and Julie, with Nicholas (age 11-1/2), Cara (age 9-1/2), and Erica (age 7).

We attended soccer practices and games. Enjoyed a swim party/barbecue at Carol and Joe's. One night all 12 of us went to the Spaghetti Factory for dinner to celebrate Grandma's birthday . . . and never mind how many, though the grandkids will be all to willing to tell you. We babysat each set of kids on different nights so their parents could have a little time together. Papa helped with homework, being the school teacher that he is. And I seemed to find many little ways to help -- unloading/loading the dishwasher, folding clothes, puttering, or whatever.

It was so great just to be around them, even with the very busy schedules that each family has, with soccer, Brownies, Scouts, homework, and just being kids.

We're almost back home now. It was hard to say good-bye. Grandma shed a few tears as we headed down the road. I already miss the hugs and smiles and the "Guess what, Grandma?" and the giggles. The "Stop it, Papa!" as Gene teases and tickles. The motel room is quiet. The walls of our home won't echo with the laughter of little ones . . . but my ears will not forget, and my heart will be a little tender for a while. I think I left part of it in California and so it softly weeps now and then.

But Grandmas are supposed to do that, aren't they?