The Grapes Miss Them Too

There have been lots of cartoons flying around the internet lately showing grandmothers dancing and frolicking because their grandchildren have gone back to school.

I understand.

Many grandmothers spent the month of August helping out while their children worked and their grandchildren had nowhere to go. They ran Grandma Camps, with or without sleepovers. They took the kids on vacations and day trips. They cooked and baked and played and cleaned and hugged and bandaged and refereed fights.

After thirty days of making pizza, wacky mac and pita with chocolate spread, I suppose many grandmothers are ready for a salad and a martini.

I am not one of them.

Yes, I also had my grandchildren for August. And while I can certainly see the advantages of having my house back, I am not celebrating their return to school.

True, my house is a disaster area. My coat closet needs a complete overhaul after umpteen games of hide-and-seek. (The coat closet is a favorite hiding place.) And I am missing more teaspoons than ever. (I have a suspicion that some of them were tossed out with the half-eaten yogurts.)

But bits of our summer keep turning up anyway. My grandson's favorite green T-shirt was mixed in with my linen laundry. Plus, as I got ready for Shabbat, I found my daughter-in-law's white woven shawl and my two-year-old's Mickey Mouse hat on the dining room table.

But honestly? I miss the mess. I miss the noise. I miss the kids. I'm heartbroken to say goodbye to August.

Of course, it isn't really goodbye. I'll try to see as many of them as I can - at least once a week or every other week. But it isn't the same as having them here for days and evenings, swinging on the porch, playing game after game, reading books until the pages curl.

I loved having the sinks filled with cups and dishes, keeping the oven ready for the next pan of French fries, and constantly replenishing the cereal. I loved the noise. I even loved the bimba races around the kitchen.

Apparently, I am the grandmother who misses the chaos.

HOLDING ON TO SUMMER

So I did as many things as I could to prolong our being together.

I took the girls for our annual back-to-school shopping spree. We commandeered dressing rooms in stores all over the mall, because when one girl finds a cute top, suddenly cute tops are popping up all over the store for the other cousins. And of course, they must try everything on at the same time.

I think the women and girls waiting in line to get into the try-on rooms were watching their goings-on like an internet reality show.

(This year, two of the guys joined us, but that was an exception to our yearly adventure. Culture shock. They didn't know what hit them.)

GRAPE HARVESTS

And then there were the Friday Grape Harvests. So far, there have been two.

Some kids came over in the afternoon and picked as many grapes as they could in an hour. Then I served them pizza, we played pen-and-paper games, and eventually the ones who had to go home kissed me goodbye and hopped on the bus.

This year's grape harvest has been amazing. The kids found grapes hiding everywhere on the vines - behind my wooden bench, along the sides of the palm trees, tucked into places I never knew grapes could grow.

The big kids climbed up to reach the clusters hanging from the top of the metal trellis. I held the ladder with one hand and a bowl with the other. They tossed the grape clusters into the bowl. They didn't always hit the mark. Sometimes it was absolutely raining grapes.

And there were so many.

This year's harvest has already produced dozens of kilos of grapes, and there are more to come. I think the vines felt something was happening. I think they know the children have gone back to school.

Because somehow, after an entire summer of having grandchildren underfoot, there are still grapes hiding everywhere. Behind the bench. Along the palm trees. High up on the trellis. Just waiting to be found.

I think the grapes miss my grandchildren too.