Day 3 of the 21.5.800 challenge. I’m not sure I should refer to it as a challenge — maybe just a community venture. Anyway, I was focusing on my breathing this morning during yoga — I did very well actually. I placed the cell phone just out of my reach and tuned out the noises of my house and began. At the end of my practice, I decided to do the savasana pose to really end on a calm note. For those of you who don’t yoga, savasana is also known as the corpse pose.
Pretty cool, huh? This pose is actually fairly hard for many people — including me. Because it requires you to still yourself, to still your breathing, to tune out the outward world, for a while anyway. I didn’t stay in savasana for very long — maybe a few minutes… but, it was long enough that I was taken away briefly from my house and transported back through time to the many summers I spent at my grandparents house…
As the youngest of four, I was always the token summer offering for my grandparents. This never bothered me actually (maybe a little around my sixteenth birthday but I’ll vent about that in a future post), I enjoyed being the center of attention. But, that’s not all the summers were about. I worked in the garden and helped can vegetables and helped cook and ran to the neighbors to borrow things and to bring them their mail. I ran down the hill to my great Aunt Dot’s house to spy on the neighbors through her window. I explored the fields around the house including the old well and I rode a mini-bike with the cute grandsons of the next door neighbor. I caught lightning bugs at night and counted the bats as they flew around during the evening hours. I would sneak off to the bowling alley with my grandfather and watch him play cards and always promised not to tell my grandmother about the money being exchanged. My summers were filled.
My grandfather was the shopper in the house. Everyday my grandmother made him a list for the store — everyday. And everyday he and I went, to not one, but three different stores to collect each item. The trips to the store with my grandfather were always fun — for several reasons.
Each day we would load up boxes with some of the booty from the garden — potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, watermelon, strawberries — their garden was huge. My grandfather and I would take the stash to each store we visited and go straight to the produce man. We always held hands. His hands were huge and calloused and protective. The produce man would inspect each item and then the fun would start — the bartering. By the time we left the final store, we would only have a few items left in our box — in addition to the items from the list that my grandmother so carefully made each morning. The items that were left over had perhaps the greatest significance to me. My grandfather and I would take the remaining items and wait in the parking lot behind our final stop for the coke truck to drive up — always holding his protective hand. Then, the greatest bartering session would begin — the one that always garnered me a case of coca-cola… in glass bottles, ice-cold.
We would return to show-off all the things we had gathered during our morning bartering sessions to my grandmother — I think my grandfather and I were more impressed with our shopping skills then she was. Then we would sit outside in the scorching hot day and enjoy our cold coca-cola — with his arm around me, smiling and reliving our morning experience. We repeated this scene each day during the summers — it never got old. I was always willing to go with him to the store… even as I got older. Because, the end result of that cold coca-cola and his arm planted firmly around me in the swing was my reward…
My savasana came to an end. I could hear the commotion of kids downstairs — I opened my eyes and was back in my room. Only a few minutes had passed, but my memories of holding hands with Poppy are with me forever. So, I think the breathing worked today — I think I was able to find some inner calm.We’ll see if yoga is able to continue to seep into my daily activities — but right now, I’m going to find a hand to hold and a swing to sit in and maybe I’ll even enjoy a nice cold coca-cola.
YES. Namaste, Becky! 🙂
This was fun! Namaste coach!
Oh I love this! I was transported for a few minutes with you, swear I could see this scene unfolding before me. What a great memory to have and I love that this community project (?) is clearly having a positive effect on you! Can’t wait to see where else #215800 takes you! xo #blove :o)
It’s really intriguing C. You should join — it’s not too late.
Thank you for the comment — that makes me all smiles this morning! I love that the yoga was able to bring back a memory so vividly for me and that the #215800 venture pushed me to try to write it out — it’s a great big circle!
Becky, you have the most wonderful memories of your grandparents…you are truly blessed. Ice cold bottles of little cokes are the best…they bring back memories of my grandaddy who had those and boxes of Brachs chocolate covered orange sticks in his fridge. Kids today think they have it made…hah…they don’t know what good times and fun are all about!
I love the phrase, “token summer offering”…weren’t you the lucky one?!
Thank you Laurette. Hopefully, my kids at least, can experience a little something different that will stick in their memories.
This was such a sweet story Becky. You were so blessed to have such a close relationship with your grandparents. Both sets of my grandparents lived far away in different states so I didn’t grow up knowing them very well at all. I really enjoyed reading this!
My grandparents actually lived in Missouri — an all day drive from our house. So, once I was there…I was there.
Thanks for reading Gail!
Ohmygosh, B! When I arrived at the last paragraph I was so surprised. I forgot we were in your room. I was with you and your Poppy holding a dripping bottle of coca-cola.
I jumped up because there was a timer going off in my house, but as I walked down the stairs I got a chill because I had really been transported. That is so cool. (Glancing at the comments I see you did the same for others too! — Fabulous!)
Thank you so much for taking me to your summers with your grandparents.
Practice.
Thank you for this wonderful comment Terre — that’s like the greatest compliment I think I could get from someone who just read something I wrote!
Big goofy smile all OVER my face!
Becky,
What a lovely memory and a beautiful story. It is amazing the effect of just holding someone’s hand can have. You brought back a few memories for me as well.
Thank you!
Thank you Mary!
I’m glad I could help bring back some memories.
Thank you for sharing the story of summers with your grandparents. I’ve been missing my grandfather (who I called Grampsie) a lot lately, and your post not only honored a wonderful memory of time spent with your grandfather, but also prompted me to sit still and allow a few cherished memories of my own to wash over me. The love between a grandfather and a granddaughter can be a beautiful thing. How lucky we are.
Yes, I feel very fortunate that both my grandfathers lived long lives — many memories with them both!
Thank you Amy for reading — I’m still looking for your blog…hmmm? 😉
that was beautiful, I may have to explore 21.5.800, thank you for sharing that story – so well written.
Thank you so much for stopping by and reading!
You should check out Bindu Wiles website, it has all the information — it’s a great project.
I’m with everyone else, B ~ your writing is so evocative, so… packed with all of your feelings along with the people, places, events… it always transports me to sit right there next to you. Such lovely memories. Such a lovely bonus from doing yoga. Thank you for sharing. *Much Love**Big Squishy Hugs*
Thank you Dani — your comments always make me happy!
And that was a very nice compliment and comment, so thank you!
beautiful post.
Thanks Lisa!
Becky, Such a lovely and touching post! I was moved by your memories of his hand in yours and the summers you spent with them. Sweet that you floated back there at the end of your yoga session.
Thank you Delia. I am really enjoying the 21.5.800 adventure and all it is bringing.
[…] result of being a smoker — he no longer could work in the garden or the yard and trips to the grocery store were limited. My grandmothers health suffered too from being around a smoker her entire adult life. […]