Life at our son’s farm is a busy affair. Four children aged from 13 months to 12 means that there is always laundry to be done, always dishes to wash, always meals to prepare, and always someone who needs comforting or help. There are new chicks in the brooder, that need to have their water changed a couple of times each day. A 100-year-old farmhouse always has something in need of repair. There are gardens to plant and bushes that need mulch. Both parents have jobs off of the farm that are demanding. Living on the farm means that every trip to the grocery store, school, post office, hardware store, or farm supply store involves driving into town.

In the midst of all of the busyness, opportunities for our son and daughter-in-law to just sit and talk are rare. On rare occasions the grandkids come over to our house for a while so their parents can have a quiet meal together and time to talk. Last evening was one of those occasions. We had finished a congregational meeting at church and were home by about 1:30. After lunch and a walk there was time for a short nap before the children arrived. The baby went with the parents while the three older children bounced into our house.

It seems to grandpa that the 12-year-old is constantly hungry. His sisters are no strangers to snacks, either, so the visit started with a little snack. We try to respect the parents’ food choices and have healthy foods for the children, but I suspect that snacks at grandma and grandpa’s house involve a few more sweets than snacks at home. Our granddaughter had commented earlier in the week that she wanted to bake cookies, and before long all three children were busy with grandma, measuring and adding ingredients to the mixing bowl.

I got the job of placing the cookie sheets in the oven, watching the time, taking them out and removing the cookies to the cooling rack. It is pretty light duty, but it gave me the opportunity to watch the activities. It seemed to me that it has taken a remarkably short time for a generation to pass in our family. It wasn’t long ago that a very similar scene played out with our children and Susan’s mother in the kitchen of grandma’s house. When I watch my wife with our grandchildren, I am filled with wonderful memories of her mother. It certainly seems like she inherited the best qualities of her mother. When I was describing the action to my sister in a phone call, I said, “She’s got a lot of Charlotte in her.”

After supper, the cards came out and soon there was a rousing game of Uno going in the living room. I loaded the dishwasher and started its cycle as I listened to the action. I was remembering a camping trip we took with our children and my mother when our children were young. It rained the whole trip, so the family spent most of the time in the tent. I don’t know how many hands of cards my mom played with our daughter on that trip, but I remember marveling at her patience. I’m not a very good card player. I’m quickly bored with a lot of games, so I notice when another person has patience to keep playing. There are a lot of good values that can be taught and learned about winning and losing graciously, granting a bit of understanding and mercy to one’s opponents, and fair play. It seemed to me as I observed that not only does my wife have a lot of her mother in her, she also has a bit of mine as well.

Savoring all of those memories while enjoying the gift of an evening with our grandchildren was a brief reminder of how precious these days are. I know how quickly they pass. From our perspective, our grandchildren will grow up in the blink of an eye. Turn around and we will be attending graduations and weddings and maybe even meet a great grandchild. It doesn’t take long for another dozen or two years to pass. I remember as a newlywed attending a few 50th wedding anniversaries and thinking to myself how the couples seemed so old and how far we were removed from their experiences. Now we’re planning the celebration of our 50th and we’ve become the old folks at family gatherings.

There are distinct privileges that go along with being the grandparents. We understand well the hard and careful work the parents invest in purchasing good food, preparing healthy meals, watching nutrition while balancing a family budget. But we have the luxury of asking our grandchildren what their favorite foods are and fixing the things that they enjoy. Our grandchildren may not know that pizza and fish sticks and macaroni and cheese are actually rare dishes in our house because we tend to have their favorite meals when they come to visit us. When it is just the two of us, we eat quite a bit like the meals at the farm. When the grandkids come to visit, there are certain indulgences that are part of the luxury of being grandparents. Baking doesn’t occur any more often at our house than at the farm, but baking occurs more often when the grandchildren are visiting, so it seems to them as if there is always something good coming out of the oven at grandma’s place. We are pleased to perpetuate the illusion.

I have never regretted that our careers led us to live in places that were distant from our families of origin. We lived in wonderful places among wonderful people. At the same time, I feel so very fortunate to have the luxury of being able to move to a house just down the road from the farm where our grandchildren live. We must be among the most privileged people in the world. Every visit from our grandchildren seems like a priceless gift.

Besides, the grandkids aren’t the only ones who love pizza and fish sticks and macaroni and cheese. I’m rather fond of the cookies as well.