A day well spent

I've spent the day with my two grandsons. We raked leaves, tidied up the garden, and played with their new walkie talkies. Curran, 6, is "legos" and Gavin, 4, is "ghostrider." When I asked what my "handle" is, they looked at me in astonishment.

"It's Mom,"they both said with a look that said, "Well, duh."

That's what they call me and it's clear I am allowed to have no other "handle."

Since we have an acre and half of garden, there are lots of places for them to play. So what happens? They both end up wanting to be on the swing, or in the hammock, or playing with the sand table at the same time. So I spend lots of time mediating.

After soothing Gavin's hurt feelings for the third time, I told him to cheer up, he was a beloved child of God, beloved by his parents, and beloved by Da and me.

"What's beloved?" he asked.

"That means we love you more than you can ever know," I said.

"Well, I don't love Curran,." he said huffily.

"Oh yes, you do. You're just upset with him now. But love is stronger than anger. It's like we all still love you even if we send you to time-out."

He looked dubious, and crawled into my lap as I sat on the porch swing in the pergola.

Curran saw this and said, "Gavin's a baby."

And I said, "You will both always be my babies -- even when you are married and have your own babies."

Gavin shot upright in my lap, narrowly missing my chin.

'Mom! We won't lay babies. We're boys! We won't grow babies in our tummies!" he said.

"Well, you won't lay babies, that's for sure. But you might get married and have babies, or you might adopt a baby. But even when you do that, you'll still be my baby."

He snuggled in again, thinking about that. Curran came over and crawled on top of us both. I moved over to make room. We all three sat there, wrapped in each other's arms.

After a minute, Gavin said, "Sing the bread song, Mom."

This is Gavin's favorite song, the one that seems to comfort him most.

You may know it. It's a Taize song.

Eat this bread, drink this cup,
Come to me and never be hungry.
Eat this bread, drink this cup,
Trust in me and you will not thirst."

We sing it at the 11:30 service at Trinity before Communion. Gavin has known the words since he could barely talk.

I think that, in some inchoate way, Gavin does indeed "get" what it means to be a beloved child of God, and that somehow he knows this song is talking about that.

So for a long time, we rocked in the swing, holding on to each other, as I sang "the bread song."

Then we went inside and watched Monsters Inc.

Have a happy New Year.