Five Minute Fridays, Lisa Jo gives us a topic, and we write. Five minutes, go with the flow. Write. Right.
This week, Connect.
The question was asked, "When do you feel the most alive?"
Our seven month old grandson fussed and squirmed, restless, unsettled, complaining. I feel that way, sometimes, too.
His dad asked, "You want to try?" The little guy was fed, changed, should have been comfy, ready to play on the floor awhile. But no, it was grumpy, fussy time.
"Of course I'll take him." In my arms, he twisted around, banged his head on my shoulder. I took him out the back door, closed it behind us. Closed away the conversation, the country music playing, the dolls and doll clothes strewn all over the living room floor. His six year old sister was absorbed with my old dolls, the four I have saved, squirreled away for just this, along with the pile of doll clothes my mom sewed for them on her little black Singer machine. Delighted, she sorted and checked sizes and tried to decide who would wear what while four naked babies waited on the floor.
Out the door, we, my grandson and I, stepped on to the concrete pad, no railings, three steps down. He paused right in the middle of a grumpy gurgle. I sat on the top step, my feet on the next step down. He stood between my legs, balanced by my hands, his weight square on his little feet, his legs solid and strong.
Not another complaint from him. How long did we sit out there? Quite awhile. His dad peeked out the door to check on us once, but we were fine. Very fine.
We watched the birds flutter around, squabbling over which tree they would settle in for the night. We watched the clouds. We talked about the sky, how big and blue and beautiful it is. We saw the trees, their branches swaying, moving, swinging, their leaves turning over in the wind. We watched the sunflowers glow in the evening sunshine, reflecting the sunlight back to its source. He chewed his fingers and drooled and looked and gurgled and bounced on his legs as we watched the evening draw its arms in around us, together, connected.
We saw bigger, darker clouds roll across the sky. We felt a few fat raindrops. We watched the birds begin to settle in, fewer of them darting around. We were quiet, peaceful, happy, calm, settled.
Together, both of us, connected with each other, connected with the beauty around us.
And I felt truly alive.