Some of us are blessed by grandparents touching our lives. As a child, I spent hours playing cribbage with my Granny T.
"I'm gonna take those points!" she'd threaten if I missed counting a 15 for two, a pair, run or a go. When I countered, "Yeah, Mom says: You play for blood!" Granny would pipe up, "No, I don't play for blood. I play to win!"
That gift of competiveness stuck. As an adult, I've taught all four of my men - from my husband to my three sons - to play cribbage to win. The long winter nights provide a perfect opportunity to exercise Granny's gift.
However, my son Aaron would argue that the cold winter days provide a greater opportunity to exercise his grandpas' gifts.
During the summer, Paka Al helped Aaron remodel Dan's old fishhouse into a spearhouse.
On those days, when young ALJ can convince his dad or the elder ALJ to spend time on the frozen lake,
he's off lighting
the fire
in the milk can stove,
chiseling
through
the ice,
the
Christmas
decoy
from
Paka Al
and poising
the birthday
present spear
built by
Grandpa Curt
to
lance
lunkers.
If I am so blessed,
I wonder what legacy
I'll leave my grandkids?
No comments:
Post a Comment