This is going to be a random one, so bear with me. I've been mulling it since Sunday, and I still can't get through the fog in my brain to make it make sense. But I'm going to give it a whirl.
Pete is learning how to walk. This involves a lot of hunching over on my end and steadying his wobbly body by placing his little hand in mine. He's gaining confidence every day, and he even took his first teensy tiny shuffle of a step all alone on Sunday. He trusts me completely, and doesn't even bother to look to see if I'm ready for him as he thrusts his hand in mine to take off. When he's holding on to me, I can feel his readiness, his increasing strength, and his eagerness to master this difficult skill, all with the touch of his hand in mine.
On Sunday, I also helped another family member as she took some slow, wobbly steps. Jeff's grandma is 93, and doesn't move around a whole lot anymore. She was in her wheelchair on the patio, and as the sun beat down on us during the day, we suggested moving into the shade. Jeff's parents have a lovely pond with big, old oak trees surrounding it, and it was the perfect place for Grandma to hang out. But, this involved getting up one step. I didn't realize that she was so unsteady on her feet, but she was ready and determined to do it. With Jeff on one side and an aunt right behind us with the wheelchair, I helped to steady her as she took teensy tiny shuffling steps towards that one stair. She trusted us completely, and I was struck in the moment at how strong and frail she was all at the same time. Her skin, as you might imagine, is wrinkly, but her hands are so soft and could tell some amazing stories and teach important lessons in sewing, crocheting, and playing cards.
It was her strength that struck me the most. She looks like this tiny weak thing in her chair, but she has a lot of fight still in her. There was never a doubt that she'd make it up that step.
I know that there are many comparisons made between growing up from infancy and growing old. On Sunday, I couldn't help but see the irony of the youngest and the oldest Girlings and their desire for mobility.