The Grandma on the Hill

When I was eleven or so, my grandmother used to take my sister Judy and me often to a lake about thirty miles from where we lived. It was always fun to go not only with them but also with my Aunt Elise and her son David. Mam, as we called our grandmother, would set up her lawn chair on the top of a hill overlooking the swimming area. The children would swim as the two sisters on the hill talked about television programs, fresh vegetables like sweet corn, and--of course--us. The two sisters in the water talked about boys and school and tried to get away from our pesky cousin in the water. It was always a comfort, however, to look up at any time during the swimming process and know that the adults' eyes were still upon us. We rather doubted that if we had gotten into trouble swimming that they could have physically saved us, but we hoped they could attract the help of someone who could.

During the Labor Day holiday this year, my son, husband, and two grandchildren--ages 7 and 11, plus a girlfriend--went to Devil's Den State Park near Winslow, Arkansas, for the afternoon. We set up our lawn chairs at the top of a hill under a shade tree. The air had a touch of fall in it; the sky was clear of even the hint of clouds. My husband started the fire in the grill for the hot dogs and hamburgers, my son tossed a soft football back and forth with our grandson, and I watched as the two girls could not resist the lure of the creek. It first became a simple game of wading in the creek in their flip flops but eventually turned into a shedding of shorts and tops in favor of their two piece swimming suits underneath. Soon the scent of the meat on the grill engulfed the area and made us all hungry for the upcoming meal of chips, soft drinks, fruit, and burgers. It was then that I realized I had become "the grandma on the hill" watching over my own grandchildren. As the girls got waist deep in the water, they would often glance us at us to make sure we were still there.

In spite of the fact that tweens often yearn for more independence as they move into the teen years officially, I believe they still enjoy that sense of comfort that I experienced myself just knowing the adults' eyes were upon me and keeping me from harm.