I could care less about yard work. It is not important to me and I avoid it like the plague. However, I had a wild grape vine growing on the house and into the fascia/soffit. I also had some not-so-sapling trees growing next to the foundation
It was time to do something and Grandma was very excited. She is 92 and her health is failing, but the woman lives for two things: teaching elementary school and yard work.
Grandma: "What are you doing tomorrow? Do you want to clean up your yard."
Jack: (Oh, Hell no.) "Sure, why not.
Grandma: "Come pick me up. What time will you be by?"
Jack: "After my meeting."
She was so excited, she starting working in her own, quite meticulous, yard that morning. I picked her up and we started cutting, sawing and snipping. Grandma can't cut or saw, but she can take the hand clips and snip-snip all kinds of little buggers. We worked for a while and then I made us take a break. She looked tired. We sat on the porch with two glasses and a pitcher of ice water and admired our work. She was proud and pleased. We cut more than I wanted to, but it really did need it.
After our break she sat in a chair and bossed me: "cut this; cut that; you didn't cut that right." It was really cute. I took her home in the early afternoon so she could rest, as she was really tired. One might be inclined to cringe that a 92-year-old woman was doing yard work, especially one who has had a mini-stroke.
We have talked as a family and we decided that she is happiest when she can work in her yard and have control over her life. If Grandma, God forbid, were to keel over and die right in the backyard she would, I can assure you, meet God with a smile on her face and snips in her hand. I am okay with that. Even the elderly need control in their lives and they need to do things that make them happy.
She is all the more happy that she gardened with her grandson. So I am. Don't tell her, but I rather enjoyed it. I don't like yard work anymore than I did, but I enjoyed our time together. I loved the fact that she loved bossing me. I don't listen much, but I giggled when she tried to do it.
It was time to do something and Grandma was very excited. She is 92 and her health is failing, but the woman lives for two things: teaching elementary school and yard work.
Grandma: "What are you doing tomorrow? Do you want to clean up your yard."
Jack: (Oh, Hell no.) "Sure, why not.
Grandma: "Come pick me up. What time will you be by?"
Jack: "After my meeting."
She was so excited, she starting working in her own, quite meticulous, yard that morning. I picked her up and we started cutting, sawing and snipping. Grandma can't cut or saw, but she can take the hand clips and snip-snip all kinds of little buggers. We worked for a while and then I made us take a break. She looked tired. We sat on the porch with two glasses and a pitcher of ice water and admired our work. She was proud and pleased. We cut more than I wanted to, but it really did need it.
After our break she sat in a chair and bossed me: "cut this; cut that; you didn't cut that right." It was really cute. I took her home in the early afternoon so she could rest, as she was really tired. One might be inclined to cringe that a 92-year-old woman was doing yard work, especially one who has had a mini-stroke.
We have talked as a family and we decided that she is happiest when she can work in her yard and have control over her life. If Grandma, God forbid, were to keel over and die right in the backyard she would, I can assure you, meet God with a smile on her face and snips in her hand. I am okay with that. Even the elderly need control in their lives and they need to do things that make them happy.
She is all the more happy that she gardened with her grandson. So I am. Don't tell her, but I rather enjoyed it. I don't like yard work anymore than I did, but I enjoyed our time together. I loved the fact that she loved bossing me. I don't listen much, but I giggled when she tried to do it.
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1 comment:
Sweet. That's what it's all about, right?
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