Grandpa and Grandma Great - they prefer this title over Great Grandpa/Grandma
I'm on a roll....
Last month, Susan's (Brandon's mom) siblings and parents gathered for the Adamson reunion. Part of the entrance fee was to bring a memory from childhood and a miracle from the past year. All of the Adamson "children" are great storytellers which they apparently get from their parents. Below is Susan's memory.
Some of my favorite parts are Grandpa saying, last one asleep is a rotten egg and I'm asleep already - it reminds me of something Brandon might do with the kids, if he's not too tired. And Susan remembering the touch, smell and instruction from her mom. The sheet comment recalled a memory of watching my grandma hanging clothes out and the smell good off the line sheets.
Hopefully, Cole, Laura and Hannah will someday appreciate the glimpse into the "simpler" days. Years down the road or when video games are obliterated.
Sleep Time Memories
from Sue
As you are a parent for awhile, and again as a grandparent, years later, you think about sleep differently than you did as a kid or even as a teenager.
As a child you fight going to sleep until you just can’t fight it any longer. Later you put off sleep in order to do things–usually selfish things–involving fun, but that isn’t too great a problem because when you ARE asleep you can sleep through anything and well into the next afternoon.
As the parent of a newborn you begin to crave sleep and long for a full night’s uninterrupted sleep. After a few more children arrive you become accustomed to getting by with far less sleep than you thought you needed, and it seems easier after a while. However, an afternoon nap, even just a few winks, especially when you have been working hard, is precious. You realize that sleep is a necessity.
My memory is of having a nap with Dad. He was still farming at this time, in the days when farmers really worked hard physically , and we had our large meal, dinner, at noon. Afterward, Dad would usually ask, “Who wants to have a nap with me?” Of course, none of us wanted to sleep, but we did want to be with Dad as much as we could. What kind of response he got I can’t recall, but we’d all (I think there were at least 3 of us then) go into the Master Bedroom and lie down side by side, laughing and giggling. (We were such good kids. I wonder if we all usually fell asleep and gave Mom some much needed rest time. I hope so. I can vaguely recall waking up once and seeing that Dad was gone back to work.)
In order to get the sleep he must have needed so badly, Dad would always say something like, “Last one asleep is a rotten egg.” That was followed by absolute silence as we each tried to go right to sleep or, more likely, fake it better than the others. Dad must have gotten a real chuckle out of that.
On this particular day, Dad broke the silence and his chance of getting some sleep by creating total pandemonium when he called out, “I’m asleep already!”
Thanks, Dad, for a happy childhood.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mom had ways of making bedtime pleasant, too. How many of us can remember marching off to bed to Mom’s piano rendition of “March of Norma”? And an introduction to opera, too! We always had clean sheets (smelling so fresh- off- the- clothesline good) and nightgowns (undoubtedly home sewn by Mom–Where did she ever get the time?) on Saturday nights.
Probably one of my very earliest memories is of some of us (at least two) dressed in our pajamas or nightgowns, lining up along the couch. Mama must have been tired at the end of a long day after caring for two or three little kids, but she sat on the arm of the big, maroon, overstuffed sofa, waiting, watching, as we each took our turn. I remember loving her touch and even the sweet, warm smell of her. I remember how warm and good and safe and loved I felt. What I know about the Peace and Love of God I learned first from the peace and love of Mama as I knelt at her knees and she taught me how to pray.
Eternal thanks, Mom.
