"Now, Don't Y'all Rush Off....."

"Now, don't y'all rush off....You don't have to be in such a hurry...."

I don't know how many times my Papa said that during the thirty years that I had with him. Whether I'd stayed for days with Nana and him, which was my custom when I was a teenager or whether I'd stayed an afternoon, he'd always say those parting words.

He's in heaven now. He's been there for one year, four months, seven days and twelve hours. I wish I could hear him say them again. I know that one day I'll see him again and I won't have anywhere to go or anything to do but sit with him in the company of our LORD.

Sometimes it feels like so much longer than sixteen months since he went Home. And it seems as if he were in a rush to get there. Of course, I know the good LORD has everyone's time appointed. Still, it felt like the years with him went by too quickly.

I can honestly say that in all those years I never rushed my time with him. Listening to his stories, enjoying him playing his guitar and singing, or simply sitting in the silence next to him and just being- I loved being in his presence.

Papa is not my first grandparent who has gone on to his reward. It's just that he was the closest one that has gone on. As the years pass by, I realize my time with my other grands on this earth is slipping by, and when I say, 'grands' I am including my husband's grands, too. We've been married so long, it's easy to forget which one is 'his' and which one is 'mine.'

I really should go see them all more, should take the children to love on them and be loved by them. How precious it is to have the connection to one's grandparents, but to also be blessed enough to know one's great-grandparents, now that is truly a gift.

For some stupid reason I've worried about bringing the little ones in on the great-grands' quiet. We're loud. We're messy. We're hungry. ('We' meaning my kids.) I don't want to impose our boisterousness on them. For some reason a cloud of dust, diapers, and toys seems to follow us wherever we go. And no matter what my kids have eaten they're always ready to eat again when we go see any of the grands, especially the great-ones.

Maybe my kids know something I don't. Maybe they realize that the silence needs to be filled with their young, happy voices. Hushed tones, be gone! The great-grands appreciate the music of their little voices!

Make shift toys littering the floor- clunky purses, slippers, old hats- delight the great-grands. Perhaps it's a reminder of when they were young. Or maybe when their kids were young. Or maybe when their grandkids were young. And they get to relive those happy times, no matter how briefly again.

And, empty (or suspiciously empty) bellies are heartily welcomed and filled by great-grands. There always is something especially delicious (even if we have the same thing at home) to be enjoyed on the lap of a great-grand. Maybe that's the difference- not what they're eating but where they're eating it.

No longer will I feel guilty that we've broken the silence; that's what they want. No longer will I feel guilty that we're messy; they never mind. No longer will I feel guilty that they've made something for us to eat; they enjoy filling tummies.

No, we will go. We will be loud. We will make messes (within reason and pick up after ourselves). We will eat. Because one day they will have gone to their rewards and we will miss those times. We will linger a little longer. We will not rush at all.