Grandparent camp is not for 'old' people
Last week I came to the sad realization that I am old. If I hadn’t come to that conclusion by myself, I could have asked my two granddaughters. I didn’t have to ask. They volunteered that information several times during the five days that we were together on our journey to Grandparent Camp in the hill country of Texas.
My granddaughters are beautiful, smart, and going on twenty-four-years old. Actually, they are nine and twelve (almost thirteen she reminded me), and they think I’m about ninety-six instead of the sixty-nine that is reality. By the end of the week, I felt like ninety-six, and I wasn’t sure they would make ten and thirteen.
I thought I was up on the times. I have a cell phone … a smart phone … which is almost as new as their phones. I know mine could be upgraded, but I choose not to spend the money. They did help me to load Instagram onto my phone on the way to camp, so that I would be able to send pictures to anyone who wants to “follow” my exciting life on Instagram. At the present time, I have one follower: the twelve-year-old, and I’m not sure if she was “following” me by the end of the week. By that time, she was mostly lagging behind me, rolling her eyes, and mumbling to herself.
Speak of mumbling. Several times this week, she and her sister insisted that I get my hearing checked. I’m sure they were mumbling. When I asked them to repeat, they would just say, “Never mind, Nanny.” Maybe it wasn’t important, but several times I had to be reminded that they had told me where they’d be, and I just didn’t remember it. At that point, my age was affecting my cognitive memory, as well. Really? They just need to speak-up … like my friends do. I always hear them.
We were given many opportunities to bond. They took archery lessons; however, the adults were not included. We stood by with cameras (phones) in hand to record the victories and erase the errors. “Nanny, you didn’t send that, did you?” At the time, I was a little concerned by arming the “opposition” with weapons. This was day three, and I wasn’t very popular at the time.
I didn’t try to ride the zip line during the day of the ropes courses. It required climbing a very tall telephone pole for which I had forgotten my cape and spider webs. Luckily, the girls decided against it, too. Other ropes events were a little challenging, also, so I begged out. After all, I am the only one with a driver’s license, and we did need to get home. They did venture out to the other challenges for which I took their word that they were highly accomplished participants. It was hot, and I’m … delicate.
Square dancing was fun. Both girls were much better than I was, but they did agree to be my occasional partner without groaning. An hour of the fast-paced drills, and I was ready to sit-out the line dancing. The caller mumbled.
The trip was a success. They both returned home without permanent scars … hopefully time will help us all to forget a few harsh words. I think we’ll remember the beauty of the hill country, fun of paddle-boarding and kayaking in the river, and waking to the crowing of the roosters in the bird house across the park. I’m glad we went when they were old enough to have a good time while dragging around the “old” woman.