Gathering the chicks

The entire family gathered here for Christmas this year.

It was good.

From the time that our two went off to school, I have marked those occasions of return; each Thanksgiving, each Christmas break, each homecoming trip, waiting in anticipation for the car to pull up in the driveway. Waiting for the chicks to return and be gathered safely in the nest. So thankful when they are.

Over the years, the pattern has often been repeated, but as time passed there were instances when a holiday return was skipped; perhaps a ski trip with college friends, or a visit to the home of someone special. It became more complicated as the time came for new traditions and new nests in which to gather. The daughter and her new husband moved to Prague for several years; the son and his new wife moved to East Texas. Time passed and then West Virginia, California and West Texas became important destinatuions to us. You worked out your visits as best you could.

And each one was good.

Grandchildren have added new dynamics to the get-togethers. When do you start traditions of your own? How do you manage when the family is scattered widely? Careers and obligations and school activities and joyless air travel complicate the gatherings.

It gets harder.

This year, all the chicks returned safely to a house that almost could not hold them all. There were long-legged teenagers stretched across every square foot of floor space. Adults played musical chairs to find a place to sit. With 2 1/2 electronic devices for every person in attendance, recharging stations were almost as important as beds. Almost. Endless ball games on TV. Movies late into the night. And the food, oh, my.

It was good.

The oldest grandson will leave for college this coming year. Can it be? He's excited about the possibilities and we're excited with him. The next grandson, already taller than the rest of us, is the athlete in the family. The third grandson, a walking sports encyclopedia, is just steps behind the other two (though walking was a bit difficult in his orthopedic boot, needed as he heals from a basketball injury). The sole granddaughter is queen of the universe. Ours, at least. When Barb lined the kids up against the growth chart, the past year was measured in growth spurts.

That is all good.

Then they were gone again, and Barb and I waited for that text or call that said that all was well; they were back safely. Our house is overly quiet, but we take pleasure in knowing that their lives, and ours, will return to normal for a short time. A very short time, because there are more changes ahead. In days that will pass like minutes, my children will be the ones waiting for the car to pull into the driveway, or for the flight to arrive. Or for the text. New traditions will be formed, new family constraints will reshape their holidays. They too, will soon wait for the chicks to return safely and be gathered in the nest.

And it will be good.