Why is it that as a child we look at growing up as the answer to all of our questions and deliverance from all of our problems? I can remember thoughts I had as a young girl. I knew that if I could just grow up and be on my own that everything would be wonderful. Little did I realize that as we grew, so did the size and intensity of our problems. How I wish that I could return to those summers of my childhood. There was such love and acceptance in the time I spent with my grandparents during those lazy days.

The day after school was out for the year, I would find myself packed and on my way to spend the summer months with Mama and Grandy. The plans were in place months in advance. Knowing that I was going to stay with them was the redeeming feature of my time at home. Oh I know you say that the relationship that a grandchild has with their grandparents is a special one. This relationship was beyond special. It was life saving. The space I occupied during the course of the main year was just that. It was a space. I felt more like an object in my parent's home. I was something that was expected to be perfect in every way. My every move was dictated by the desire for having the perfect children to present as trophies. Anything less was unacceptable. There was no visible sign of affection between my parents. Every morning my father would make the rounds of the breakfast table offering his cheek for a goodbye kiss from everyone. That was the extent of affection shown. On the other hand, at my grandparent's home my grandfather would pat my grandmother on the rear end as she would walk past and allowed an approving giggle escape. You could tell it by the look in their eyes that there was a lifetime of love between them. It was because of this love that showed so readily that I looked forward to being with them. They made me feel it as well.

Taking in a long, deep breath of the summer air I went deeper into the memories of the happy times. I don't think I will ever forget the first camping trip that we went on. My grandfather had retired from the postal service and now had nothing but free time to offer me during the summer. With the precision and organizational skills he had developed as an inspector he gathered the camping items and planned our trip to Hunting Island. The first purchase was a nine foot by nine foot canvas tent. In order to make room for the three of us to sleep he bought light weight aluminum cots for he and Mama. I had an air mattress that functioned not only as a sleeping mattress, but also for fun in the waves at the beach. He was like a child himself with all of the new toys that went with camping. Mama and I watched with smiling faces as he unloaded the lantern, the camp stove, the neatly packed camp cookware and utensils, and the tightly rolled sleeping bags. Instead of chasing me off and out of his way, Grandy taught me how to set up the camp for our stay.

It was my job to place the stakes at each corner of the outstretched tent as well as at the loops in between. Then I was to take the hatchet and drive them into the ground. As I was doing that, Grandy was getting the poles and such ready to apply to make the tent open. Mama was setting up the picnic table as our kitchen and living room. Together as a team we made it all work. After all of the setup was complete, it was time to enjoy the surroundings. Grandy placed his Styrofoam safari hat upon his head and told me to get my bathing suit on. I don't know that I ever saw Grandy get in the water to swim anywhere we went, but he was right there in his lawn chair watching me in the surf for hours at a time. He just sat there smoking his pipe and waving if I got too far out for his comfort.

Camping in the evenings was always a special time for me. We would always have a campfire to sit around. Sometimes Mama would bring out the marshmallows for me to roast. We would always use that time to talk to each other. It always amazed me that Mama and Grandy actually talked to each other. They never seemed to yell or get angry with the other. They always asked what each other thought about things and shared ideas. What was even more amazing is that they talked to me, too. Not just to tell me what to do or how to act, but they asked me what I liked and what I felt. They made me feel wanted and loved. It was so wonderful.

With the arrival of these memories, huge tears form in the corner of my closed eyes. If I had only known how much I would need them now I have to wonder if I would have said more to them then. I wonder if they know just how much they mean to me and have meant to the making of the woman I am now. My life as a child and adult could have been so much worse without them to show me what was possible. Had it not been for the love they gave me I would probably not have the wonderful relationship with my own children that I have. I would not have known how to recognize the true love in my husband's eyes and heart. I would not have the memories of their warmth and understanding to take me through the toughest of times. I would not know how to find this moment of peace among the battles within me. Without them, I would not be here now.

Mama is gone now and Grandy is reaching that time in his life when his physical and mental faculties are no longer aware of all he once was. I miss them so very much. I long for the times we had together. I wish that I had appreciated what they had to offer while they were still available to accept the appreciation. As the summer breeze now blows across my face I offer a prayer to their loving spirit. A feeling of fullness and warmth fills my heart as I realize that I will always have them with me. They are a part of everything I am. The summer breeze tells me so.