Sunshine's view of Grandpa

 

 

2014, Grandpa with Benjamin (2 yrs. old)  He loves reading to his grandkids.

“Grandma, I don’t know how to say this.”

 

Sunshine, just go ahead and say it.

“I mean, I love Grandpa, but…

Why did you marry him?”

                                    

                                      I glanced over at

                                            My husband

December 1972, our wedding day

nearly asleep in the rocker. 

His face was flushed

from the heat,

and his graying hair 

looked almost silver.

 

Sunshine looked at him, long

and hard.  “He has a big tummy.”

Why, yes, Grandpa is fat.

“Oh, Grandma!  Mommy said 

we can’t say that

he is fat!”

 

 

 

It’s okay, he already knows it.

It came to me that Sunshine had never known us

 as we were, when we fell in love.

                 So I told her how young we were, how his hair

Just out of college.  So young.

was black and curly, and he was thin then.

I told her how my hair was so long that

it came nearly to my waist.

I told her how we met and then

 we…got married.

Oh, the day of hot-pants!

Sunshine looked back and forth at us.

Long and hard.  

 She gave up. 

“Okay, Grandma. If you say so."

 

Being Wrapped in Kindness

Never regret being kind

Anniversaries of personal tragedy are the hardest days for me.  The first year or the fifteenth year anniversary—time does not change the depth of grieving for the death of someone beloved.

It does not matter what day this grief hits me.

The anniversary day or any day, any year, remembering hits me.

This is Bill when he was in high school with his horse, Sonny

December 12, 1999 was the day my youngest brother Bill died, at age 44.  It was 11:30 at night, Sunday night.  His fiancée had phoned from Louisiana that afternoon at 2 PM to tell me that Bill was very ill and would be going into surgery to correct problems from a surgery done earlier that week. 

Very serious.  Septicemia.  Doctor says….

The rest of the day was spent in pacing around the house, calling the nurses’ station, pacing some more.  Until 11:30 that night.

On December 12, 2009, I sat, watching my granddaughters play.  The youngest, four year-old Sunshine noticed how quiet I was and how sad my face seemed.  She climbed up on my lap and asked in her little sweet voice if I was sick. 

I told her about my brother and how he had “gone to heaven” ten years ago.  Sunshine listened solemnly and nodded.  She knew about heaven since their dog Shelby had recently gone there, too.

“Well then, Grandma.  I’ll hold you 'til you feel better.”  Then she settled into my arms, laid her head upon my shoulder, and soaked love into my very being. 

I have never been given such a kind gift like this before, or since.

Who is cuddling whom?

Lucky mommy with 5 yr. old daughter!

This is a repost from 2009. It is 2020, eleven years ago. Sunshine is now 14+, taller than I am.  I could sit on her lap, but instead she curls up to me. I am blessed.

Sunshine: Theology as seen by a four year-old

Sunshine:  Theology 101 according to a four year-old.

After I pick up Sunshine from Gateway Christian Preschool, we always have lunch together.

Having lunch with Sunshine is always an interesting event, even if it involves copious amounts of pbj, milk, and applesauce.  All it takes is a simple question, and her vast wealth of knowledge and opinions come flooding out like gold coins from Scrooge McDuck’s vault.

All I have to ask, “What did you learn at school today?”

Just before Easter, Sunshine’s eyes brightened at that question, and without missing a bite of pbj, or a drop of the jam from the oozy edges, Sunshine told me.  “I learned all about Jesus.  And, Grandma, did you know…”  

She paused for a swig of 2% milk, and to allow me to mop off her face.  “Did you know that Jesus gotted nailed to a cross?  That’s a thing that has two pieces of wood that make a small ‘t’.  The bad Romans (Where did she hear about them, I wondered.) took big nails, Grandma, really big nails.”  She spread her hands about a foot apart.  “And then they hammered them through Jesus’ hands, really hard.  Right through Jesus’ hands.”

Her wide blue eyes made contact with my green eyes, to make sure I understood what she said.  Oh, I understood.  I could feel His bones breaking, and the blood dripping onto the wood.  My green eyes became misty with tears.

With casual care, Sunshine licked off the strawberry jam that she had squeezed out from the bread, on purpose.  She likes to do that, and I don’t blame her; so do I.

“Then they stood the cross up like this,” Sunshine demonstrated with her yellow IKEA plastic spoon, “and dropped it in a hole like this.”  She brought down the spoon hard into the bowl of applesauce.  “That woulda really hurted, you know.”

Again her eyes looked deeply into mine, checking for understanding just like any good teacher would.  Oh, I understood how the cross would have hit the ground with a vibrating thud, and how this would have shook Christ’s body with waves of pain.  My eyes blinked at hers several times.

She told me the whole story, event by event, while I remained very still, listening and watching as my almost 5 year old granddaughter explained salvation to me.  “Miss Kenny gived us each a paper cross we color on, and I decided to color my cross like a sunset.”  I looked confused, I suppose, for now she patiently explained her ideas as if I were only 4 years old.  

“You see, Grandma, the red is for the Blood of Jesus, which He gave away so we can see Him in Heaven.  Then the orange is for the sunset when Jesus died.”  Another bite of pbj, and the last swallow of milk.  

“Can I have some more milk, Grandma?”  Without missing a beat while I automatically poured the milk into her pink IKEA cup, Sunshine lowered her voice to a whisper.  “Then I used yellow.  You know why I used yellow?” 

I shook my head, for at this point I didn’t want to or couldn’t talk.  “Well, the yellow is for sunrise, when Jesus got up out of His grave.  That meaned that He wasn’t dead anymore, that He was alive!”  She slammed her hand on the table.  “There!  See!  Jesus is alive!”

With the last bite of pbj, and the last swipe of the spoon around the bowl of applesauce, Sunshine finished up.  “Then I colored around the cross in blue, ‘cause Jesus went up to Heaven, and He’s waiting there for all of us.”  She gazed into my eyes and asked, “Grandma, why are you crying?  This is good news, not bad.  Jesus is alive!”

I pulled her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her.  Sunshine wiped her gooey face into my tee-shirt, and filled me with her warmth.  Yes, He’s alive, Sunshine.

Susan Kane

April 27, 2011

This is a re-post from six years ago.  I had forgotten about until I checked comments in Hold for Moderation section.  Sunshine is now eleven, my height, with the amazing blue eyes.  And she still knows what Jesus did for us.

Sunshine and Fate

Source: kodakgold

It was fate, down-right fate.  Taking Sunshine to this Consignment Store where bling and style lined each rack and each shelf, was fate.

Grandma told Sunshine they were looking at purses and cool clothes while they waited for Bright Eyes to
finish her dance class.  With only ten minutes to go, this seemed a safe option.

Entering the door that rang with an old fashioned bell over the door, they found that bling did exist and in great quantities.  But there was something else.

In a place of honor was a pair of women cowboy boots.  Of course, boots are made of leather (if they are true cowboy boots).  These boots sported the hide that once decorated a rust and white cow.  These boots were soft and pretty.

Sunshine cried, “OH, NO!” and ran to embrace the boots. 

“Oh, Grandma!  Please tell me these boots are not made from a horse!  ‘Cause Spirit’s girlfriend horse had fur JUST LIKE THIS!”  She cradled the boots.  She gazed at Grandma, with wide blue eyes glistening with tears.

Per Wikipedia, God bless 'em

Then she looked accusingly at the two women who ran the store.  “I am an animal lover, and horses are almost human!  Are these made from a horse?!”

The two women were horrified at the very thought.  They reassured Sunshine that those boots were made from a cow; boots would NEVER be made from horses.  EVER!

Grandma distracted Sunshine with a blingey purse, but the seven year old gave the women an evil look that said, “You’d better be telling the truth.”

They nodded silently.

I've Been Robbed!

Erin in one of her creations. All her costumes are accurate to the time period.  The skirt alone weighed nearly ten pounds!

Recently, my daughter Erin and family attended the Renaissance Faire near Pasadena, California.  In years past, Erin had been an active member of the Guild which provided an Elizabethan presence, complete with all degrees of nobility.  Normally, Erin and Brian would have been clothed in expensive and accurate costumes she has created over the years.

  

Sunshine's first Faire in her mother's arms

The problems were that Bright Eyes and Sunshine have outgrown their old costumes.

 

Erin, Sunshine, Brian, and Bright Eyes

They went to the Faire as tourists, in shorts and sandals and lathered in sunscreen.  The girls wore tattered fairy wings left over from Halloween, and they had a grand time, the best Erin could remember.  

Freedom from the heavy costumes and the burden of being in character allowed them to explore, experience, run, and play.  

Freedom—aaahhhh.

At the end of the day, they arrived home drenched in sweat and caked in dust-turned-mud.  Erin took the girls in through the garage, stripped them down, and threw the damp clothes straight into the washer.

Bright Eyes is a modest 8 ½ year-old.  She wrapped a large shirt around herself, and ran up to the bath tub. 

But Sunshine, oh 7 year-old Sunshine.  She was born nude and would live her entire life as a nudist, if given the chance.  She stripped down and streaked through the house.  She ran into Daddy at the foot of the stairs, only then realizing that she was naked.

Sunshine smiled big, threw her arms open wide, and exclaimed, “I’ve been robbed!”  Giggling, she raced up the stairs to join her sister in the tub.

Robbed, in deed.

Freedom: aaahhhhhh!

Brussel Sprouts Re-Defined

source

Children are brilliant in so many ways.  They literally burst into this world with all the right parts.  Then these little creatures manage to survive inept parents, grow, and start talking.

But one of the best ways in which they are brilliant is that they lack the EDIT button in their brains.  What they think is what they say.  Like it or not, the words come out of their mouths in honest certainty and sincerity.

I have written about my grandchild, Sunshine, many times before.  She is a delight and a frustration.  She looks at the world and picks up on clues that would escape most children.  At almost seven years old, Sunshine is a powerhouse.

per Wikipedia

Sunshine watched “Jumanji” recently with her mama and sister, Bright Eyes.  Early on in the movie, Alan (Robin Williams) and Sarah (Bonnie Hunter) were playing the game of Jumanji.  Alan was pulled into the game, disappearing for 26 years. 

At this very point, Sunshine started weeping uncontrollably.  She said that Alan would never see his mommy and daddy again, and they would miss him.  They would look and look for him, but never find him.  Then Alan would be somewhere without them, and all alone.  Then they would die….  She followed the train of events without seeing the movie. 

 When my daughter calmed her down, the movie started resolving all those issues.

Bright Eyes told Sunshine, “Hey, this is just a movie.  Get over it.”

Yesterday, my daughter served brussel sprouts in lemon and butter sauce.  Sunshine’s response?  “I’ve never tasted poop before, but it might taste like that.”

No edit button in her head, is there?

J is for ... Jupiter

The last few weeks have been an astronomer’s dream.  Mars was hovering in the eastern night sky, while Jupiter and Venus danced around in the west.  My husband John and I have watched it with awe.

With that prelude, J is for…Jupiter.  Rather than create a new post, I am re-posting one titled “Sunshine and the Solar System”.  My granddaughter was four years old when she and I discussed Jupiter; her insights trump mine anytime. 

Today I learned about the Solar System from my 4.8 yr. old granddaughter, “Sunshine”.  She started out the lecture over lunch, by leaning over and whispering as if this info was high-level security.

I am still important, in my own little way.

Where did THAT come from?

“Pluto isn’t a planet anymore, Grandma,” she told me with very serious eyes.  It is hard to take anyone seriously when there is peanut butter and strawberry jam on either side of her  mouth, and a milk mustache.  I did a quick swipe with a damp towel.

“Yes, Sunshine, I know,” I admitted to her with regret.  “All these years, Pluto has been the farthest planet and now it is just a cold big rock.  What can I say?” 

Sunshine patted my arm in solace.  “It’s okay, Grandma.  It’s okay.”  She took another messy bite.  Sunshine is a full-body contact eater. 

“Oh!  Oh!  Grandma!  We wouldn’t want to go to Venus.  You know why?  ‘Cause we would burn up, just like that!”  She tried to snap her fingers, never an easy task, but impossible with p.b.j. gluing the fingers together.  I swiped again.   “But my favorite planet—you know what it is?”  Then she looked around the room and leaned in to say, “S-a-t-u-r-n!”

It's my favorite!

I don’t know who would be listening to our lunchtime conversation, but apparently all this information being departed was worthy of covert-operations security.

We can take a big huge giant knife...

I whispered back that my favorite was “J-u-p-i-t-e-r!”  Then I told her about how huge Jupiter is.  She nodded so knowingly.  “Is it the one with the big red spot?”

Yes, Sunshine it sure is.  Then I told her that Jupiter was sooo big that we could put 100’s and 100’s of Earths inside it.

“I know what, Grandma!  You and Grandpa can rent a space ship and we can go up in space.”  She paused for a swig of milk. Swipe, swipe.

“Then we can get a really giant rope, and we’d wrap it around the earth.  And we’d tie the rope to the end of the space ship.”  Sunshine took a p.b.j. bite, followed by an apple slice, and tossed it down with milk.  Swipe, swipe, and wipe up the milk off her shirt.

“Then, we could pull the Earth all the way to Jupiter.  Once we got there, we could take a big huge giant knife.  We could cut out the red spot, and pull the Earth inside Jupiter.  And we could see how many more planets we needed to get to fill Jupiter up.”

All we need is a giant rope and a space ship.

I tried to tell her as gently as I could that Jupiter was so far away that we would not live long enough to go there.  Then I waited for some tears or disappointment.

 Instead, Sunshine just shrugged her shoulders.  “Well, then.  We will just go up into space and fly around for a while.”  She finished up her food, and went to wash up.

Sunshine is undeniably brilliant, and now I realize she is pragmatic.  Perhaps she will have a career in NASA?

Sunshine and Her Baby

Our time with our granddaughters, Bright Eyes and Sunshine, gets shorter every year as they march away from us and run to school.

I spent much time with Sunshine when she was still in pre-school, and her sister was in full-day school.  We had three hours together and Sunshine used every minute to tell me about her thoughts on big questions and thoughts.

  She knew all about it.

Solar System?  Ask her anything and she could set me straight.
The Digestive System?  She has that covered.

Fairies?  Oh, yes, there are fairies, Grandma.

Now, Sunshine is in kindergarten, and we have a short hour on alone time, but Sunshine manages to educate my husband and me on anything important (to her).

My youngest daughter will be having a baby in June or July, so there have been a number of discussions about this and travel to Switzerland to see the baby when it comes.  Sunshine has heard it all.

Yesterday, in that short hour between kgt, and regular school dismissals, Sunshine opened her heart and mind to share her wisdom.

“You know, Grandma?” 

No, Sunshine, what?

“When I have a baby, YOU and GRANDPA will be GREAT-grandparents!!” *giggle*  And MY MOMMY will be GRANDMA!”

Yes, sweet baby, we will be.

Then Sunshine made a point here that we call her ‘baby’ because we remember that she once was a baby, and that her mommy was our baby, but she’s a grown-up mommy now, and…..

 “Well.  When I have a baby, you can come and visit, y’know?”

Oh, we’d love that!  Thanks, ba….Sunshine.

“But, you will have to wait a day or two after the baby is born…”

Of course, we will. But why?

“Well, I’ll have to teach my baby a few things.  ???  I’ll have to teach her what to do and what not to do.  And, what to say and what not to say.  Grandma?  Do babies move their mouths when they are just born?”

We were caught short here, and I tried to explain that everything is new to a baby, so they move everything.

“Well, you’ll want to see the baby before she opens her eyes.  Babies look so cute before they open their eyes, all squished up.  Don’t you think so, Grandma?

Before we could formulate an answer, Sunshine moved to a different topic about a bird that she just now saw, “Out there, Grandpa!  See it?”

Such is steel-trap mind of Sunshine.

...Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound...

One good or bad effect of having my type of migraines is that I have hyper sensitive senses.  Honest!  I can hear your thoughts even while you read this, and sense your doubt.  But it is true.

At the movies, my super sense of smell can tell me that the man in two rows behind me had pepperocini on his B.M.T. Subway sandwich.  That can be a good thing, or sometimes a bad thing

With my super sense of hearing, I can hear conversations when I really shouldn’t be able to hear them.  Factor in some ability in lip reading, well, it can be good or bad. 

Oh, Lindsay!  I wish I were more like you, in so many ways....

My hyper hearing recently gave me many moments of pleasure.

My husband and I recently took Sunshine to Wal-Mart for a quick shopping trip.  Wal-Mart is not a good place for me on so many levels:  the noise, the lighting, and Lord-please-help-me, the smells.  The cheese balls alone can send me into a spinning world. 

Given those facts, the trips to Wal-Mart must be hyper quick, in a run on a directed path. 

This time, Grandpa, Sunshine, and I were there to buy some sewing supplies.  It is a boring place for a kindergartner and a grandpa. 

Within minutes, Sunshine announced she was hungry. “There’s a McDonald’s here, did you see it, Grandpa?  And we could…”

Grandpa was ahead of her, and as they walked away, my super hearing heard a good portion of their conversation.  The important bits are here:

Sunshine: …blah, blah, blah, Happy Meal, blah, blah, diet Coke…

Grandpa: …blah, blah, blah, No, blah, blah, hamburger, blah, share a drink…

Sunshine: …But, Grandpa, blah, blah, blah, Happy Meal!...Toy, blah, blah…

Grandpa: …Blah, blah, No, Sunshine!...blah, blah,…a cheeseburger, then…

Sunshine: …blah! Blah! But, Grandma X. always lets me…Blah!

Grandpa: …blah, blah…Then nothing, okay?...

Sunshine: …blah…a cheeseburger, then…

The voices faded away, and I knew that I would find Sunshine glumly eating a cheeseburger, with a smiling Grandpa.  There would be no toy, or anything.

courtesy of Bing.com

I didn’t need any super skills to see that one.  I know my husband.

Sunshine!

Our granddaughter, Sunshine, continues to be a fount of wisdom, a source of great insight.  With her clear view of ‘what should be’, Sunshine gives us all a reasoned out perspective on almost anything

Want a unique view of space and the universe?  Read ‘Sunshine and the Solar System’.

Struggling with unruly spontaneous children?  Read ‘Sunshine and Self-Control’.

Ever wonder why one has eaten enough broccoli or meatloaf, and yet, has room for ice cream?  Sunshine has been explaining that to us.

I had fixed a great baked ziti dinner complete with green salad, garlic bread, and dessert.  I had worked most of two hours on it, which also included doing yesterday’s dishes while the girls cleaned the TV room. 

The delicious smell of Italian food and copious amounts of garlic greeted my son-in-law and then my daughter when they came home from work.  The table was set by the girls, my husband had filled the water glasses—dinner was ready.

With great flourish we all sat down to eat.  While the rest of the family dived in to eating, Sunshine pushed her noodles around with her fork, scraping off the sauce and meat.  After just a few bites, she announced that she was full, and ready for dessert.

Mommy handled it well.  “Sunshine, you have to eat your salad and noodles.  No, no more bread!  No, you can’t have a second glass of milk.”  The ‘No’ went on for a while.

Sunshine burst out, “But, Mommy!  The noodle and salad side of my tummy are full!”   

Courtesy of Bing.com:  Apparently this is a common belief.

She pulled up her shirt and explained how her stomach was divided in to compartments.  Over here was the noodle compartment, and it was way full; over there was the salad compartment, and it also was going to blow up.  The bread side could use another slice or two, and the milk side was virtually dry.

Since then, Sunshine has used this compartmental stomach claim many times.  She never wins, but I do believe there is some truth to her claims.  

Bring on the dessert, Sunshine.  I am with you.

Sunshine and Self-Control

“I don’t know what came over me…I couldn’t help myself…I don’t know…I don’t know…indistinct sobbing”  (Chorus Line)

Sunshine is our five-year old granddaughter.  Sunshine is free spirited.  She dances when she hears music.  Sunshine speaks her heart.  She gives hugs freely, and cares when others are hurt or sad.  Sunshine thinks everyone is kind and loving, just like she is.  But, oh my, Sunshine, Sunshine.

Lately, we adults have been looking into her glistening blue eyes and hearing these words, spoken over and over in various combinations. (Chorus Line)

Yesterday Sunshine was so happy about the lasagna and fresh French bread, that she hugged that soft loaf of bread nearly in two. (Chorus Line)

At school, Sunshine wrote her name on her own desk.  She wrote it very well and very hard with her pencil.  Sunshine had to stay in from recess to scrub it clean. (Chorus Line)

Mommy went into her bathroom and found two straws floating in the toilet.  The first 1 ½ inches of each straw was fill with a smelly brown substance.  Mommy yelled, “Sunshine!”  She replied, “It was a science experiment!” and then... (Chorus Line)

Sunshine found a Sharpie™ marker and wrote on Mommy’s nice bedroom end table.  She wrote all over it.  Then she moved onto the foot of the bed.  (Chorus Line)

This was on Bing.com, but Sunshine draws like this.

There is so much more in the Sunshine file, but this is all I care to reveal.  It is enough. 

Grandma, why did you marry Grandpa?

“Grandma, I don’t know how to say this.”

Sunshine, just go ahead and say it.

“I mean, I love Grandpa, but…

Why did you marry him?”

I glanced over at my husband,

December 1972, our wedding day

nearly asleep in the rocker. 

His face was flushed

from the heat,

and his graying hair 

looked almost silver.

Sunshine looked at him, long

and hard.  “He has a big tummy.”

Why, yes, Grandpa is fat.

“Oh, Grandma!  Mommy said 

we can’t say that

he is fat!”

It’s okay, he already knows it.

It came to me that Sunshine 

had never known us

as we were, when we met

and fell in love.

So I told her how young we were, how his hair

Just out of college.  So young.

was black and curly, and he was thin then.

I told her how my hair was so long that

it came to my waist.

I told her how we met and then

 we…got married.

Oh, the day of hot-pants!

Sunshine looked back and forth at us.

Long and hard.  

 She gave up. 

“Okay, Grandma.  If you say so.”