Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word

Run Grammy Run!

It was another lovely fall day, and especially good because it was a sleepover at Grammy and Papa’s for Petra for the weekend. She and I and Jess headed out for what I thought was a leisurely walk to the park. I admit I’ve been lazy since the wedding, and while I have been a jogger for the past 20 years I have slacked off in my discipline. I was feeling lazy, and not up for much effort in my walk.

As soon as we hit the open field, Jess decided to go for a run. She took off, and Petra ran behind her, dress flowing and her little legs flying as fast as she could go. She looked back over her shoulder at me, and seemed perplexed that I wasn’t running as well.

“Come on Grammy! Run!” she kept going, looking back at me.

“Oh honey, I can’t run right now,” I tried to excuse my laziness but she was having none of it.

“Oh Grammy, it’s easy. Watch me.” She exaggerated her steps, and I realized she thought I didn’t know how to run, so she was showing me.

I made a minimal effort, but she was not satisfied. She slowed down as I got closer to her, and held out her hand.

“Hold my hand Grammy, I think it will help you.” I took her hand and she drug me along relentlessly, until I finally gave up and actually started jogging to keep up with her. The look on her face when she looked back at me was priceless.

“You’re doing it Grammy! You’re running!” She was beaming with pride at having taught me something new, and I continued to run with her until we reached the park.

I can’t say I liked the running, but it was good to know I still had it in me, and her pride at teaching me was contagious. We played at the park until dusk, when Jess returned from running and Robert came to drive us home, so we didn’t have to brave coyotes through the field.

But wait, there’s more.

The next day, Petra had returned home and Robert was preparing to leave for Kansas, so he and I took a long walk along the canal road before he left. It was about a four mile walk, roundtrip, some of which included the field and park I had just been running in the day before.

We were still about a half a mile from home, well into the trail still, when Robert’s blood sugar dropped. He was halfway through a granola bar when it became obvious that one bar would not be enough.

“Do you want me to run home and get the car?” I asked, mostly to be nice. “Let’s wait and see.” He said. After a few minutes he conceded. “You should go get the car.”

And I was off and running. Not a fast run, but a steady jog. As I rounded the next corner I realized we were farther into the trail than I thought, and wondered for a moment if I would be able to make the jog all the way home. I kept going. When I finally left the trail and headed through the park and field, my lungs were on fire and I considered stopping and walking. But I didn’t. I kept seeing Petra’s face and hearing her joy as she yelled “You’re doing it Grammy! You’re running!”

I managed to jog all the way home, fetch the car and apple juice, and returned just as Robert was leaving the trail and headed for serious trouble. Disaster was averted, he drank the juice and eventually recovered.

All because Petra taught me how to run…

Advertisements

November 6, 2017 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Responsibility

It was another exciting Grammy day with Petra, and the playland at McDonalds was hoppin’ with activity. Most of the older kids had gone back to school, so the place was full of grandparents and smaller children. My little charge was sporting a new dress, compliments of her Aunt Mihyun and Uncle Nathan. Unable to decide which pair of flip-flops best completed the ensemble, she was wearing two different flip-flops, and was adamant about placing them neatly in the shoe bin.There was another young girl with an equally puffy dress, and she and Petra took turns jumping off the step and watching their dresses fly up. I think they believed they were flying. A trio of older children showed up, and the girl, about seven or so, immediately took to Petra and the other young one, and as happens with little and big girls, they quickly formed the dynamic of the older girl helping the younger ones scale the slide, crawl over the fences, and generally being at their beck and call.

I relaxed and sipped my diet Coke and took the chance to do some people watching. The older girl had two brothers, pretty close in age, with the older boy being around eight or nine. I think they were involved in a child exchange, as the mom sat in the lobby and the father came in to have lunch with the kids. After eating, the man stood up and announced he had to get back to work, and the kids hugged him and he left the playland.

A few seconds later there was an incredibly loud wailing sound coming from the back of the playland. Myself, and several other Grammies, instinctively covered our ears as we realized someone had breached the security of the playland doors, and the increasingly loud sound was that of the emergency alarm, letting us know someone had tried to escape. The kids scattered like rats, each one running to their guardian with scared looks on their faces. Petra immediately took a seat next to me, and looked at me with eyes that said “I didn’t do it.”

None of the kids seemed afraid, but they all seemed to naturally know that someone had done something wrong, and it was important to them that it be known they hadn’t done it. They looked at each other wide-eyed and accusingly. I noticed the young boy I had seen with his father earlier stood nervously by the door. His cheeks were red with embarrassment, but he didn’t flee. His eyes darted around to all of us, probably looking for whoever was in charge. I expected him to split as soon as no one addressed him, but he nervously paced back and forth in front of the door. I finally made eye contact with him, and he seemed relieved to confess his sin. He was clearly afraid of whatever consequences came with opening a security door.

“I did that. That was me.” He said, on the verge of tears.

“Aw, well, it was bound to happen. No worries,” I tried to make him feel better.

“I was saying good bye to my dad,” He explained as the alarm continued to blare. He stood his ground even as he looked around, waiting for the authorities to come take him away for committing such a horrendous crime. Finally, the lobby guy who cleans the playland, an elderly gent, sauntered into the playland and slowly worked his way across the room to the door. He inserted a key, turned it and the alarm ended. It clearly wasn’t the first time someone had opened the forbidden door, and I don’t think he even cared who did it.

But that young boy did. He was adamant about owning up to his mistake, and equally adamant about taking any punishment that came with it. He stood directly in front of the  older man and confessed again.

“That was me. I did  that. I was trying to say good bye to my dad.” He waited silently for his punishment.

“Well, don’t touch the security doors.” And with that, the old man went back to work and the young man breathed a sigh of relief and a big grin spread over his face. He had owned his crime, confessed to his sin, and was let off with a warning. He had to feel pretty good about himself. He had done the right thing.

Our country’s leaders, celebrities and athletes could learn a thing or two about maturity and integrity from this young fellow. And he wasn’t even ten years old yet.

August 19, 2016 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment