Austin has "officially" gone home...

   

      

          Last week when I took Austin swimming in Biltmore Lake we waded in at a shallow part by the boat house, enjoying the coolness of the water.  Then with a splash, Austin plunged his whole body underwater.  When he came up, water dripping off his curly head,  he announced, “I am now officially in the water…”  This is an Austin pronouncement, something he does which takes me by surprise.  It's one of many fun things I’ll remember and miss about him now that he’s gone home to Washington D.C.

            The house is quiet today but I can hear the sound of Austin giggling and the running up and down of his bare feet on our wood floors.  Three weeks of babysitting for Austin,while his parents worked, lead us to develop a new relationship.  He started teasing and then nonstop giggling, making up silly rhymes about Grandma or Art and then dissolving in fits of laughter.  He’s happy, I thought. I realized he is so relaxed with us now he can giggle away and trust we will just tease right back.  Each morning we picked him up at his rental house. He buckled himself into his booster seat either in the Subaru or Toyota and was ready to spend the day with us. 

            All day today I have  thought about and remembered Austin's visit.  I imagine he would make a disbelieving face if I told him “the ghost of Austin” now lives in my house."I'm not a ghost.." he might say. But right now he is everywhere in my house.  The piles of games we played as a family,  the workbooks and markers I had for him to color and practice writing letters and numbers in are packed away.  The  Nature Journal I gave him and made him write Spanish words in is on its way to Washington DC  somewhere in the Mini car. Perhaps he will find it one day this summer and remember the Spanish Nature Scavenger hunt we went on.  The nonstop Spanish I spoke to him while he was here is still in my head and I imagine those conversations and how good it was to have someone to speak my other language with.

            The dining room table seems empty with only two of us sitting for meals.  I look at the open place across from where I usually sit, and in my mind that is where Austin"s should be. I am saving his place.  I see him sitting there at lunchtime working his way through his daily ham and cheese sandwich after he has carefully taken his Doritos and arranged them between two slices of bread.  

            “Where did you learn to do that?” I asked him.  He just shrugged and smiled slyly.  When he bit into his sandwich it made a crunchy sound.  That usually was followed by the negotiation over postre or dessert.  “What do I get when I finish this?”  he always wanted to know.

            I’ve been out to the garage numerous times today to put things away and the beach towels look forlorn on the shelf, the bag of wiffle balls and the bat are in a bag in the far corner. I wonder when he’ll be back to play out front on our perfect dead end, no traffic street.  I won’t forget his comment to me, “Grandma, it’s good you own this parking lot.”
  

          The swim noodle is on the shelf but I am glad it got a good workout just a few days ago when we took it to the lake. There’s a sadness, I think, in putting all these things away and always that uncertainly as to when he will be back.

            Now when I walk into our bedroom I see the carved out space in the middle of the queen bed and remember snuggling up with Austin watching two Harry Potter movies in the afternoons.  I can feel Austin’s small hand cover my eyes during the “scary parts” which he has memorized and can anticipate perfectly.  Reading the first four Harry Potter books was worth all those hours anticipating Austin’s July arrival.  I like to think that six-year-old Austin was impressed.

            After dinner I will walk outdoors and see the many rabbits come out to feed.  I will miss the evening walks with Austin down to the end of Black Horse Run and back along the trail, watching, and counting rabbits.  Last night after dinner, our final evening together, Austin came in to report he had tracked five rabbits. 

            So many memories of “Camp Biltmore Lake” this summer which we all enjoyed despite the pandemic restrictions.  No sand beach to play on, but the lake still there to swim in.  Tennis courts available and a chance to watch Austin volley expertly with his Dad.  The lake trails open for biking and walking.  The “silver lining” (a cliché that has evolved during these long months of Covic19 restrictions) has been a three-week visit and not the usual annual one week vacation. 

            The pandemic is far from over and with the uncertainty of Austin’s schooling this fall perhaps they’ll be back for another extended stay and city getaway.  I’d like to hear Austin say to me, “Grandma, did I mention we might be back in the fall?”  

            For now he’s “officially” left and I miss him already.

            

Camp Biltmore Lake

            Austin said his day today was a 9.5 on a scale of “1 to Universal Studios”, my daughter-in-law, Jessica, wrote me in an email the other night after our Arboretum Nature walk. 

            Yesterday, at the dinner table when we were all together Hayden asked, “how was your day today?”

            “Universal Studios,” Austin replied enthusiastically. 

             Ever since Hayden, Jess, and Austin were in Orlando in February and visited Universal Studios and Harry Potter World, this has become the standard for the BEST EVER experience. Being a passionate Harry Potter fan,( having been read six of the books, listened to them all on Audible books, and watched all the movies,)  visiting Universal Studios is Austin's most exciting experience ever…up until now.

  

            Since Austin arrived with his parents in Asheville for a three-week stay from summer in Washington DC, Art and I feel like camp counselors. While giving Hayden and Jessica much needed uninterrupted work time we have been doing activities with Austin.   Evidently our ratings are high so far.  Each evening Art and I spend time thinking about “what shall we do with Austin tomorrow?”  It hasn’t taken long for us and for him to settle into a routine which begins with an outdoor activity in the morning.

             Monday it was a Nature Scavenger Hunt in Spanish along the Biltmore Lake Pink Beds Trail. Shady and cool under the tall trees, we looked for hojas(leaves), mariposas(butterflies), ramas (branches), insectos (insects), hongos(mushrooms), un nido (a nest), and other things on the list while we practised saying the words. Austin is interested critters and plants and his head is full of animal facts. He told me he learned them all from the TV Show The Wild Kratts.  He has statistics and facts about bull frogs, ants, bears …anything he happens to see.  Tuesday was an outing to the North Carolina Arboretum to hike the one-mile Nature Trail looking for any unusual nature sights.  Austin, with his digital camera ready, was intrigued by oddly shaped stumps of trees or roots of trees that had fallen over.  He lined up his shots just as the pros do to get the most artistic photo and snapped away.

Photographing on the Nature Trail

            Wednesday was an excursion to the Biltmore Estate to bike. Entering the estate we saw a long line of stopped cars with people watching a big black bear walking down the edge of the road looking lost. This was Austin's second bear sighting since coming to Asheville just 10 days ago.  Parking at the lagoon Art and Austin rode the paved bike trail. I walked in the shade by the river.  Austin sailed along like a pro and he was amazed when Art told him they had biked five miles each way.  “That’s my longest bike ride,” he announced proudly.  Austin is very competitive especially when it comes to sports or any physical activity.  He cooled off afterwards by the French Broad River which runs along one border of the Estate property.  He was fixated on the strong current that swept everything he threw in it, downstream and out of sight quickly.

Biking at the Biltmore Estate

            Thursday’s activity was swimming in Biltmore Lake. We have to avoid the beach area which is closed because of Covid19 but could get in the water closer to the boat house. I met a friend and her grandson there and both boys paddled around in the water. When Austin’s lips starting to turn blue and we had to get out and warm up. “I’m just like a popsicle,  I’m so cold getting out of the water,” he told me. His metaphors are delightful and his descriptive language more poetic than many adults I have conversations with.

            We were back in the water again till a black cloud appeared and dumped a drenching rain on us. Austin helped grab our towels, bags, and beach toys, and we ran to the car.  He was delighted declaring it was “just another adventure”.  

            Back at home after each of our outings we had indoor time.  Art started an elephant puzzle with Austin.  They both like puzzles but Austin is best at putting a few pieces together, walking away to do something else, then coming back to suddenly find he can do more on the puzzle.  Watching him was like writing my blog posts where I set down my ideas, put my writing away for a day, come back to it, Then I can see the finishing touches easily. How does he know this intuitively at aged 6?  

            We got out the “Little Passports” kit which Austin brought with him and we chose to focus on Japan and do activities on that country.  Austin painted a water color of a bullet train with Mr. Fuji in the background and I read a story about Japanese Macaque Monkeys.  We learned and practiced some Japanese words and set up a museum display.  Grandpa Art pulled out his enormous stamp album to show Austin and gave him some Japanese stamps for his “passport” which he was delighted with. Austin likes geography and learning about other countries.  He has been exposed to the world through Hayden and Jessica’s many international travels and his own family vacation experiences in foreign countries. 

Puzzle doers...

Grandpa's Stamp Collection

            If asked how my summer has been on a scale of 1 to 10.  I’d have to say a 10 because it’s been the longest and most fun visit with Austin. I will miss our conversations full of  “actuallys” or “basicallys”, Austin’s poetic metaphors, and his unexpected but keen observations   While playing outdoors in Black Horse Run in the street he said, “it’s a good thing you guys own a parking lot..”   I like knowing that we are rated right up there with Harry Potter World so they will all be back.

         

"Thank the Lord"....July 4th, 2020

         
            “Thank the Lord for Independence Day!”  a man said with a smile as he jogged past me on the Biltmore Lake trail.

            I stopped for a minute as a tall, older man whom I didn’t know went running by me.  I continued on my walk deciding that what I had just heard could only be a reminder of where I live  - the South.  Most Americans tell you to have a “Happy” July 4^th"but it never occurred to me that God could be responsible for Independence Day. Really?

            

            It has been a quiet, rather lonely, 4^th of July for us in the middle of a worsening pandemic.  We have no family visiting as has been our custom for so many years. We pay attention to the warnings to stay away from others.  So we are alone with our thoughts and memories.  It does not feel like a time for celebrating anything – not a “great” United States or any of the usual upbeat things that go along with a national independence celebration.

             Art and I headed into the woods early this morning in what we said,  half-jokingly, was the perfect social distancing activity on this July 4^th .  A 5-mile hike from our front door, up Scott’s Mountain behind us, into the Pisgah National Forest,  We didn’t encounter another person.  It was just us, the lush beautiful trees around us providing welcome shade on this hot summer day. The birds were sounding their calls around us as an occasional squirrel scampered in the dry leaves.  Luckily no bear sightings.  Occasionally we heard an airplane overhead breaking the silence, a sign of the country “opening up” to travel.  Back home in a few hours for a restful afternoon of no plans. Yet the memories of years past seem to haunt me today. 

            Our best 4^th of July holidays where those we spent at Hawkwood, in Rochester, Vermont for 20 years.  The old photo albums are full of happy family photos of gatherings for meals at the round table on our deck overlooking the Green Mountains. Mother and Dad came often, as did Megan from California, and Hayden was sometimes home with us. There are photos of nieces and nephews when they were younger who visited us at that time.  Some years we invited old friends from other places we had lived to spend the holiday with us. For us, July 4^th became a time we loved sharing where we lived with others.

Mother and Dad at the Rochester 4th of July Parade

            There are many photos of us on the Rochester Green at the Annual July 4^th parade surrounded by neighbors. In a town of 1200, we knew everyone. Some were dressed in red, white, and blue, cheering the homemade floats going by.  One year Bernie Sanders lead the Rochester parade, and another year Governor Howard Dean, was the parade leader.  We cheered enthusiastically waving our American flags.  The Rochester Fire Truck and EMT vehicles were always part of the parade , The Liberty Hill Farm pulled a trailer with a tractor. Town kids got to sit on the haystacks and ride in the parade and wave along the way.  Another year, the Park House, a residence for the elderly, worked to make a float.  The old ladies in their gayly decorated straw hats and flowery dresses were a big hit as they rode in the parade. There was even a truck with a big Creemee Ice Cream on the back advertising the local gas station. (In the summer we bought a creemee every time we went to town.) The Town Constable, Tom, rode his cruiser bringing up the rear.  Art was even asked to be a judge one year.

 Park House ladies riding their float in the parade

 The Park House float

Hooray for Creemees!

            I remember the aroma of outdoor cooking grills being fired up in preparation for a fried chicken luncheon for anyone wanting to stay for lunch after the parade. A fund raiser for the Rochester Volunteer Fire Department, the firemen and their wives set up tables on the Rochester Park and cooked the food.  The Rochester librarian took advantage of the town gathering across the street from the public library to set up a table with used books for sale.

            It was in Rochester, Vermont at the July 4^th celebrations that I learned, what American patriotism felt like.  I sensed the community pride of this town that came together in a spirit of celebration. We owned a home in this small town and were part of it all.  It was special.

             Growing up in South America I have only vague recollections of July 4^th. It would have been winter, perhaps a school day and work day.  We must have gone to the American Ambassador’s residence for a reception and speeches as is done in many overseas posts.  All Americans are invited.  As a child I didn’t know what it meant to be American, I only heard it from Mother who reminded us often “you are Americans, and don’t forget it”.  Years later she seemed surprised when I told her I didn’t feel totally American.  How could I, growing up and going to school in Spanish, and being comfortably immersed  in the Latin American culture.  It was in Vermont that I first felt and understood what it was to be a patriotic American.

            Our last Vermont 4^th of July was nine years ago today.  The photos of that day make me nostalgic and a little bit sad.  Megan made a special trip from Berkeley to be there for the weekend so she could stay one more time in a place that had become a second home to her.  Hayden brought his girlfriend Jessica (now his wife) from Washington D.C. to share Rochester with her as it had been such a big part of his life.  As soon as the holiday was over we packed up the house that would soon be sold,  We drove away for the last time at the end of July and headed to Asheville and a new life in the South.  We have been back to Rochester to visit but never on July 4^th.  It wouldn’t be the same without friends and family to be with us.

 Our last Vermont July 4th  2011with Megan, Hayden, and Jessica

Watching the Parade 

            It’s been a quiet day here and a thunderstorm just blew over. I try and imagine what there is to celebrate this year….and I come up with nothing at all – a pandemic and a country that has unraveled in ways I no longer recognize. This holiday has never been the same since we left Vermont to live in North Carolina.  Still, the memories of those years when we felt like true patriots alongside our neighbors, are still with me.  

            “Thank the Lord for the good memories of better times!”I say.