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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Community / Home
- Published: 12/29/2022
"Just watching."
Born 1951, M, from Wilmington NC, United StatesAuthor's Note: This is a True Story, only the Angels are Fantasy...maybe.
*****
The Angels crowded around. Some of them had tears in their eyes. Others, well, their smiles were just heavenly. Some sat on puffs of clouds, others stood tall so they could lean over the sitting Angles to peer down at Earth. A lot of them held hands as they watched the scene below. It was the stuff that made Heaven…well, Heaven. Word spread…more Angels came to watch. Soon a whole Heavenly Host was peering down.
What did they see?
She had been a very good Mother. Her daughters both leaned on her for all the little things that Mom’s do without anyone really noticing. Like being loved unconditionally, always welcomed with a warm hug, kind words, or a safe harbor from the days ups and downs. Her Daughters were both nearing forty years of age…and still their Mother was their rock. She enjoyed being a Mother…she as good at it. Great even.
But now, in her late sixties, that same Mother blossomed into a creature even more loving, gentle, and caring than before. She bloomed into a Grandmother. This time all the responsibility for teaching right from wrong, being the one who must deal out “tough love”, or handle the growing pains as children past the waypoints in life that alter their futures. That was on her Daughters and their husbands now. She was free to just love…and play.
She had taught her daughters to make “Chocolate no bake cookies” when they were still toddlers. Now, she taught two grandchildren the same culinary skills. There was much laughter and giggling as the kitchen filled with the sounds of intense concentration that only children seem to make. Dishes, cups, plates and measuring spoons of all types were scattered around …but kept within reach.
The measuring cups were in fractions and milliliters - allowing yet another chance to teach, learn, and become a bit more educated. Such a simple thing…plastic measuring cups held in little hands, each spill, or correct measurement applauded with equal enthusiasm. The Angels continued to watch as “Nanny” played with her youngest grandchild.
He would watch with wide eyes as “Nanny” pulled a soft walled hamper out into the play area. Inside were assorted balls, stuffed animals, trucks and cars of all kinds…and his favorite toy of all…Petey. Petey is a soft bright orange (with black stripes) tiger. She had given Petey to her grandson when he was born. Petey is twenty one months old now…the same age as his buddy- her Grandchild.
Woody of “Toy Story” fame, couldn’t have been loved (or needed) more than Petey was. The Angels let soft tears fall when Petey was tucked in to the boy's arms at night, to fall asleep in the short arms wrapped tightly around him. It was such a gentle moment. It always is. An inanimate object giving life, love, and friendship. A companion who’s importance couldn’t be understated. Both Mother and Grandmother knew to keep a close eye on Petey…so he could be available when the stress of strangers, to much travel, or to little sleep, pressed in on the small child. A bit of portable reassurance and safety cuddled up in a stuffed animal skin.
They watched as the Grandmother sat on a small stool, her grandson learning words like: ball, truck, go, and “oh dear” while sitting across from her. She never ran out of patience. She chased the ball to the sound of his giggles down the hallway…only to turn and roll it back to him. His giggles as he watched the ball speed back to his chubby little hands…made the smile on her face grow impossibly wide. The Angels cheered them both on.
The Grandmother, white haired, wrinkled and just a bit overweight…seemed never to tire of chasing a ball, making engine noises for the various trucks and cars…and even providing a constant story line of driving the vehicles to work, to scenic places, or just over to the kitchen to see what’s under the cabinets. The Angels crowded even closer then the little guy crawled up onto her lap, burrowed into a comfortable sitting position, waiting expectantly for his “Nanny” to read his favorite books to him…just before nap time.
“LOOK a Frog!”
Made all the Angels giggle as the: “ribbit ribbit ribbit” sound the Grandmother made elicited sweet soft giggles from the little tyke. The Angels hearts almost burst when Petey and her grandchild were laid down in the big bed to take their morning nap. They watched with wet shiny eyes as he Grandmother pulled a rocker close to the bed and hummed a gentle lullaby as white noise for the pair sleeping in the bed. Soon, she would drift off, her snores as comforting a sound as the lullaby had been earlier.
The Angels stayed to watch just a little more…and are they glad they lingered. For they got to see yet another moment that goes unnoticed by most humans.
For the young Mother had returned from the few hours of freedom she had been given by her Mother watching her child. She knew it was about his nap time, so she had entered the house quietly. She walked down the hallway to his room. She grew a lump in her throat to see her son (and Petey) curled up in the big bed. Her Mother - asleep- sitting in a rocker pulled close to the bed, a children’s book lay open on her lap. She was snoring gently…masking the tiny puffs of air that counted as a snore from her young son.
She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, cocked her head to one side, and just took in the scene in front of her. She stood there for a long time…just enjoying the display of love…remembering how she used to be the one in the bed, with her own version of “Petey”, a well worn stuffed rabbit called: “Lasty.” She still had Lasty…and wondered if her son would still have Petey when he reached the age she was now. She sure hoped so.
The Angles had to cover their mouths with their hands to keep their gasps, sighs, and quiet exclamations to themselves. Finally, the young Mother moved, when her son started to stir. She climbed into the big bed and curled his tiny body (and Petey’s) next to her warmth. He fell back to sleep instantly…so did Petey…I suppose. She didn’t even realize she was that tired…in moments, she was fast asleep.
Only then did the Grandmother awaken. She got up out of the rocker and placed a light blanket over the sleeping trio, turned out the light, and took one last look at the small family she had helped make…she felt love just pouring out of her as she closed the door. She would go fix a light lunch while they were sleeping.
As she left the room …the Angels dispersed. Their hearts lighter, fuller, and free. Angels live for moments like they had just witnessed.
And so do we.
"Just watching."(Kevin Hughes)
Author's Note: This is a True Story, only the Angels are Fantasy...maybe.
*****
The Angels crowded around. Some of them had tears in their eyes. Others, well, their smiles were just heavenly. Some sat on puffs of clouds, others stood tall so they could lean over the sitting Angles to peer down at Earth. A lot of them held hands as they watched the scene below. It was the stuff that made Heaven…well, Heaven. Word spread…more Angels came to watch. Soon a whole Heavenly Host was peering down.
What did they see?
She had been a very good Mother. Her daughters both leaned on her for all the little things that Mom’s do without anyone really noticing. Like being loved unconditionally, always welcomed with a warm hug, kind words, or a safe harbor from the days ups and downs. Her Daughters were both nearing forty years of age…and still their Mother was their rock. She enjoyed being a Mother…she as good at it. Great even.
But now, in her late sixties, that same Mother blossomed into a creature even more loving, gentle, and caring than before. She bloomed into a Grandmother. This time all the responsibility for teaching right from wrong, being the one who must deal out “tough love”, or handle the growing pains as children past the waypoints in life that alter their futures. That was on her Daughters and their husbands now. She was free to just love…and play.
She had taught her daughters to make “Chocolate no bake cookies” when they were still toddlers. Now, she taught two grandchildren the same culinary skills. There was much laughter and giggling as the kitchen filled with the sounds of intense concentration that only children seem to make. Dishes, cups, plates and measuring spoons of all types were scattered around …but kept within reach.
The measuring cups were in fractions and milliliters - allowing yet another chance to teach, learn, and become a bit more educated. Such a simple thing…plastic measuring cups held in little hands, each spill, or correct measurement applauded with equal enthusiasm. The Angels continued to watch as “Nanny” played with her youngest grandchild.
He would watch with wide eyes as “Nanny” pulled a soft walled hamper out into the play area. Inside were assorted balls, stuffed animals, trucks and cars of all kinds…and his favorite toy of all…Petey. Petey is a soft bright orange (with black stripes) tiger. She had given Petey to her grandson when he was born. Petey is twenty one months old now…the same age as his buddy- her Grandchild.
Woody of “Toy Story” fame, couldn’t have been loved (or needed) more than Petey was. The Angels let soft tears fall when Petey was tucked in to the boy's arms at night, to fall asleep in the short arms wrapped tightly around him. It was such a gentle moment. It always is. An inanimate object giving life, love, and friendship. A companion who’s importance couldn’t be understated. Both Mother and Grandmother knew to keep a close eye on Petey…so he could be available when the stress of strangers, to much travel, or to little sleep, pressed in on the small child. A bit of portable reassurance and safety cuddled up in a stuffed animal skin.
They watched as the Grandmother sat on a small stool, her grandson learning words like: ball, truck, go, and “oh dear” while sitting across from her. She never ran out of patience. She chased the ball to the sound of his giggles down the hallway…only to turn and roll it back to him. His giggles as he watched the ball speed back to his chubby little hands…made the smile on her face grow impossibly wide. The Angels cheered them both on.
The Grandmother, white haired, wrinkled and just a bit overweight…seemed never to tire of chasing a ball, making engine noises for the various trucks and cars…and even providing a constant story line of driving the vehicles to work, to scenic places, or just over to the kitchen to see what’s under the cabinets. The Angels crowded even closer then the little guy crawled up onto her lap, burrowed into a comfortable sitting position, waiting expectantly for his “Nanny” to read his favorite books to him…just before nap time.
“LOOK a Frog!”
Made all the Angels giggle as the: “ribbit ribbit ribbit” sound the Grandmother made elicited sweet soft giggles from the little tyke. The Angels hearts almost burst when Petey and her grandchild were laid down in the big bed to take their morning nap. They watched with wet shiny eyes as he Grandmother pulled a rocker close to the bed and hummed a gentle lullaby as white noise for the pair sleeping in the bed. Soon, she would drift off, her snores as comforting a sound as the lullaby had been earlier.
The Angels stayed to watch just a little more…and are they glad they lingered. For they got to see yet another moment that goes unnoticed by most humans.
For the young Mother had returned from the few hours of freedom she had been given by her Mother watching her child. She knew it was about his nap time, so she had entered the house quietly. She walked down the hallway to his room. She grew a lump in her throat to see her son (and Petey) curled up in the big bed. Her Mother - asleep- sitting in a rocker pulled close to the bed, a children’s book lay open on her lap. She was snoring gently…masking the tiny puffs of air that counted as a snore from her young son.
She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, cocked her head to one side, and just took in the scene in front of her. She stood there for a long time…just enjoying the display of love…remembering how she used to be the one in the bed, with her own version of “Petey”, a well worn stuffed rabbit called: “Lasty.” She still had Lasty…and wondered if her son would still have Petey when he reached the age she was now. She sure hoped so.
The Angles had to cover their mouths with their hands to keep their gasps, sighs, and quiet exclamations to themselves. Finally, the young Mother moved, when her son started to stir. She climbed into the big bed and curled his tiny body (and Petey’s) next to her warmth. He fell back to sleep instantly…so did Petey…I suppose. She didn’t even realize she was that tired…in moments, she was fast asleep.
Only then did the Grandmother awaken. She got up out of the rocker and placed a light blanket over the sleeping trio, turned out the light, and took one last look at the small family she had helped make…she felt love just pouring out of her as she closed the door. She would go fix a light lunch while they were sleeping.
As she left the room …the Angels dispersed. Their hearts lighter, fuller, and free. Angels live for moments like they had just witnessed.
And so do we.
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