I’ve been told that the reason we put up with raising our children is so that we might enjoy the thrill that comes with having grandchildren. I believe that is true and I often question whether I actually deserve the joy that has come from having grandchildren. In any event, I try to stop and notice the special times.
This Christmas Eve I had a special grandparents moment that coincided nicely with a beer experience and thus the whole tableau melded briefly into what I’ve been referring to as a “beer moment.”
Several weeks back I purchased a bottle of Sam Adams Chocolate Bock and have been storing it away all this time, waiting for Christmas Eve. I had to work Christmas Eve, but all day long the thought of enjoying that Chocolate Bock brought a smile to my face and within about 30 minutes of arriving home, I’d poured the bock and jotted down some notes, ready to sample the rare brew on the back patio.
Well, I cannot set foot out on our patio without our oldest grandchild inviting herself out as well and I’m always happy to consent to the good company she provides; she’ll busy herself with her outside toys while I sit comfortably in a chair. This Christmas Eve was no exception and, as I sat sipping the Sam Adams Chocolate Bock I made a point to consider my great fortune not simply in being able to afford a single bottle of beer priced at over $15 when so many of my fellowmen have nearly nothing but also my luck to be there at that place at that moment with a child of just two years and eleven months who, for whatever reason, right or wrong, thinks the sun rises and sets in me (as I do her).
So there, in our tiny Christmas Eve mutual admiration society, we sat as the western sun hung low in the sky, fading from a Christmas Eve to a Christmas morn full of the promise of doll houses and toy guitars and I couldn’t help but think that no one could possibly be luckier than I. She’s too young and will likely not remember this Christmas Eve. I’m old enough to hope I never forget.
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