To The Herald-Whig:
When my children were small I prayed to live until they were adults, and my prayers were answered.
Now there are grandchildren and great-grandchildren, the little peoples.
Looking back, I smile remembering how a grandparent's lap, a hug and a kiss were a sure cure for tears. For a sick day, it was a pillow and granny's old couch to lay on watching TV, plus the usual medicines, a cold cloth on the forehead for a headache or fever, a box of tissues for a cold or runny nose, and for flu a pan nearby for "just in case."
The pre-teen and teen years taxi service was needed for a ride to the friend's house, or the swimming pool or a pick up from school.
Now, the older grandchildren have become responsible drivers, but now there are three more ready to hit the road. Lord help us.
Throughout the years, there's been music, the wind, string, keyboard and percussion instruments, plus the songs sung into a pencil held as a microphone. Now finally, we have two guitar players. Nashville here we come.
Somehow, the world seems a better place when seen through the eyes of a child, at least it's a lot more interesting. They're the fountain of youth.
But, time goes on. My nighttime prayers are still the same, asking God to bless those who need it, but I'm sure He just shakes His head when I add "Lord, I'm ready if you call, but, I'd really like to stick around here a few more years. I'm afraid I might miss something."