"If you don't see the book on the shelf, write it." ~ Beverly Cleary
My grandparents got married 60 years ago and they became newlyweds.
They had a couple kids and they became parents.
Then their kids got married and had a some of their own kids, so they became grandparents.
And a month after 60 years of marriage, they became great grandparents!
We’re on the road again and this little chicken has been nothing short of perfect on this trip, making friends along the way.
Her language is rapidly developing and the list of words and sounds that she makes has increased ten-fold. Animal noises are her speciality and she has been the life of the party at each and every event, the lone member of her generation.
Some of my dad’s cousins have young kids and she wants to get right in and play with them, mimicking their every move. She has discovered the goodness of mud puddles, mashed potatoes, donuts, graham crackers, popsicles, flowers, swimming pools, and whatever else the mid west has offered her little soul.
The one thing that I forget about Maggie sometimes is that she is a people person through and through. At a fancy anniversary celebration with more than 50 family members, she was more than happy to clap, point and cheese-ball smile for anybody and everybody. This has made dining out easy because she loves to stare down anybody that interests her.
I can’t express how much she amazes me and how much love I’ve got for her. Her curly, curly hair and her huge eyes invite people to dote upon her.
As our car rambles back towards home, one of her favorite things to do is to look at the photos of her papa and Sydney, kissing the pages and make barking sounds.
I’m a bit fearful that by the time we arrive on the doorsteps of HBHQ, Barry might not recognize us because Maggie has absorbed so much new information.
Yesterday most us us piled into two cars and took a tour of Devils Lake with my grandparents leading the way. Since both my grandparents lived out of town growing up, they had to stay with other families during the week in order to attend school. We got to see the houses they stayed in and the houses of their friends, cousins, priests and aunts. My grandfather told us how he and a friend made it a goal to get to the rooftoop of each building in the small town, a feat nearly accomplished.
We learned that my grandparents had a master key to the high school and would go wander the hallways and look at the art work (or make out, as my grandpa puts it). I’ve learned that both my grandparents were highly involved in student government with my grandpa acting as student body president. The stories they tell are so intertwined and where one lacks detail, the other fills the space.
The tour included former schools, the cemetery and a museum that used to be the sheriff’s house. At the museum pictures of my great great grandparents hung on the wall memorializing my great great grandfather’s time as sherriff. The old telephone directory holds the names of family members long gone. The house in itself was where my grandparents got their lone wedding photo taken and my grandmother spent many, many days of her childhood running up and down the stairs.
We recreated the wedding picture and finagled ourself into the display portion of the museum. Today we head out to visit the farms were both my grandparents grew up. Quite frankly, we’re gearing up to battle HUGE mosquitos. Apparently mosquitoes and thunder storms are a way of life around here and since we’re all wearing the Devils Lake colors, we ought to get used to it