It was a tough day at the beach, but I had no idea what sort of illuminating discovery was awaiting me…
This evening we went to the beach to watch the sunset. We went during off peak hours because no one wears a mask on this beach and we want to avoid the daytime crowds. There were not many people and everyone was respectful of social distancing. The grandkids were digging and playing in the sand while the adults relaxed. All was right with the world… and then it happened.
Innocently enough, our seven-year-old granddaughter asked, ‘Grandpa, do you want to see me to a cartwheel?’ ‘Sure,’ I said. And the events were set in motion.
Her sequence of standard cartwheels was followed by a few one-handed cartwheel attempts, some successful. Then my four-year grand-son asked: ‘Grandpa, can you do cartwheels?’
Cartwheels? Heck, yeah! I can do cartwheels, head-stands, hand-stands, you name it! ‘Here, let me show you.’
As I hefted my incredible girth out of the beach chair, I heard Julie and our daughter chorusing…’don’t hurt yourself’ and ‘be careful, you’re not 60 anymore!’
What the heck! I spent 20 years in the Army carrying a rifle and a rucksack. I’ve done cartwheels, wrestled with our kids, performed handstands on demand and even handsprings for crying out loud! Then I thought to myself: when was my last cartwheel?
“Watch this,” I told the kids. Then on three successive stumbling and tumbling attempts, I collapsed into the sand. After the last attempt, our four-year-old grandson coached me. ‘Look, grandpa, stand like this. Put your hands like this and just cartwheel… like this.’
Oh, if it were just so simple. Embarrassed, sweating, and caked with sand, I lay on the beach wondering when I had lost my edge. When had I devolved into an awkward and clumsy grandparent? Heck, I used to be a respectable grandparent. What happened?
As my grandkids performed gymnastics over and around my sprawled, sweating carcass, and our daughter demonstrated handstands and a back-bridge on the beach, I lay there thinking…
My thoughts wandered back to when our kids, Shawn and Monica were 13 and 11, respectively. We were playing soccer in the yard and I clearly remember the moment. For the first time, I had to tell the kids that we needed to take a break because Dad was tired and needed a rest!!!
I was 35 or 36 at the time, and the moment struck me–this was a milestone in my life. Heck, I was still in good shape, running five miles a day wasn’t an issue for me at that point. Yet, here were these two little kids running me into the ground!
That was 30 years ago. Today, I got ambushed by a pair who are just four and seven years old! As I lay there, sweating, caked with sand and feeling like a beached whale… I smiled.
This is life. This is life that’s worth living. These kids, the grandkids–I love them. They’re what keeps me young. Sure, I wish I could still do my perfect cartwheel, but lying in the sand with the grandkids piling on and laughing with me… that’s what makes this tough day at the beach worth it.
