Posted on by Cathy Edgett · 2 Comments

Entry

I’ve been with my grandson who is three, almost four.  It’s pure delight to enter into an imagination where we are moles, lions, jaguars and bears as we protect and feed our baby animals, which are an assortment of all the stuffed creatures he’s been given over the years.  I feel myself as fluid when I become another animal, feel what it is to use my mouth and claws to hunt and defend.  I see grandson exhibit patience as he waits to pounce on prey, and twists and turns in all sorts of ways, and I do too.

We become the gentle rabbit hiding in the grass, and the curious monkey who peers through a handle-hold in his bed which is lifted so we climb up and down a ladder as we move from the floor to the safety of our blanket and pillow-filled den.

It’s an immersive world being with him as he interprets differently than I so I’m constantly adjusting interpretation and explanation .  The blind hanging vertically becomes a carwash for the matchbox cars.  

I sit here now looking out on blue sky with a soft touch of fog.  How many animals am I today?  How do I meet the floor on all fours? What is it to sit in a chair as a bear and type?

I’m reminded of a book by Kiley Reid, Such a Fun Age.  It’s about racism, and the joy of being with a three year old.  I recommend it as a way to live even more aware.  

When I was driving him around town, I took a wrong turn and we stumbled upon a library. When I saw the sign, I slammed on the brakes and parked, and grandson was as excited as I. Books – another way to expand. He chose one about a woman born the same year as I, 1949, and her journey to becoming an astronaut after seeing Sputnik fly overhead in 1957. Dreams fulfill.

Outside the library, blueberries grow
A frog invites entry to a world of books
Who could not respond?
And there’s always a stick to be found and floated even on days when jammies are the uniform of the day.
A Haven

Posted on by Cathy Edgett

What Drives Us

When I was young we loved to pile into the car for a drive or road trip.  Drive-in movies with homemade popcorn were a special treat.  We’d play in our summer pajamas on the swings and playground equipment until the light dimmed, and then we’d run to the car to snuggle in.   I remember the magic and delight of watching Cinderella on the big screen with the sound popped right into our station wagon.  

I used to love to drive but traffic has become such an issue that sitting stopped has taken away the appeal, but my nineteen month old grandson loves cars.

Watching him, I’m entranced with all the levers and gears, the technology that moves us from place to place.  He holds the car keys, and puts them in the slot, or in a more modern car, touches the screen. 

I think what a marvel a car is, realizing it contributes both to our autonomy and a sense of isolation.  We are pilots of our destiny, well, until we hit another red light, or a traffic jam.  For now though, it’s fun to travel the roads of imagination.