Pass On The Left

     As I walk an 8K, the happiest pre-schooler, riding what looks like a new scooter, approaches on the opposite side of the park's paved path. He should continue to head straight, staying on his side, as we pass each other. No problem: but instead, he takes extra effort, intentionally crossing over diagonally, to my side of the paved path. I see the whites of his intent eyes. He heads directly towards me, like he's gunning me down, seemingly crazed.

     A mutual moment occurs as paths prepare to collide. Excuse me, he says...

     The other side of this story, "Joey's" letter-of-the-law perspective, is shared for mutual understanding...

     Joey's parents promised him months ago that for his 4th birthday they would buy him a scooter: Joey, a scooter is for big boys, but they can be dangerous if you're not careful. When you ride a scooter, you must wear a helmet.

     Over and over conversations about scooters and helmets are replayed. Finally, the big birthday arrives, with scooter-riding fun on the front sidewalk, and Mom says: Since Daddy will be off work early today, let's meet him at the park to show him what a big boy you are. The park's long sidewalk is perfect for scooters.

    In the car, Joey's excitement is written all over his face. Are we there yet?

     Almost, says Mommy, and she reviews the scooter rules: Big boys wear big boy helmets. Other people will be on the path, and you will be moving faster than they walk. It is very, very important to pass people on the left, and big boys are polite. Big boys say excuse me. Which is your left hand?

     Joey raises his left hand many times, practicing during the car ride. With helmet in place, Joey is ready to show off for Dad: Don't forget to pass people on the left. Which is your left hand?

     Up raises Joey's left hand. He's ready for the open, forever long speedway. Joey's foot becomes a speedy motor. Wow, this scooter moves f.a.s.t!! 

      Passing alert!! Mommy said there would be other people on the path, and here's one coming towards me on the other side. It'll be tricky to cross over and pass on the left side. I'm a big boy. Pass on the left. My left hand is this one. Got it!  The lady is coming, coming... closer, closer, closer... cross over... I see her surprised eyes... She must also be thinking I'm a very big boy! Just wait until she hears my polite...
   
     Excuse me, he says.

     I quickly zag left to dodge a head-on collision.

     Joey's heroic thoughts? Mommy and Daddy will be so proud of me!

     He happily proceeds along, with no attempt to slow down. This bewildered walker wonders why he was drawn like a magnet to my side of the path?

    His parents see the dire look on my face, and they apologize, never predicting that in obedience, Joey would misunderstand. That he would use extra effort to cross over and almost gun down oncoming pedestrians to pass them on his left!

    Joey reacted opposite of mutual natural. Obedient to the left, but he wasn't right...

     Mutual take-away:

• Principles outweigh rules
• Two wrongs do not make a right, or left: and,
• Crossing over to the other person's perspective affords me to offer grace (Paradigm shift, Stephen Covey, 7 Habits).

Mustang Moment

    Ka-zing, -zing... -zam! My grandson's pulverizing death ray shoots through the computer screen as we Skype. Inspiration randomly comes to me, to exit when he zings. The glee in grandson's widened eyes is evident as he energetically giggles... DeDe!!

     I pop back to the screen, and JJ joins the entertainment. Our 3-year-old is ready for rounds 2, 3, 4, etc. as both grandparents exit the screen when ka-zinged. His arcade-like, repetitive nature is fed, and we non-verbally communicate interest in his world. What is our ultimate goal? To chat with our daughter.

     That is just one brief and treasured Skype session. It ends as my lips approach the screen's microscopic camera to send a smooch-kiss with: DeDe loves you!


     It is more than worth our repetitive zinging play when his garbled ...wove woo... boomerangs back, with a responsive and reciprocated smooch kiss.

    This simple playtime with our treasured little duckling probably won't be remembered by him years from now. He's too young. But, there is another who views our grandparental yielding "Mustang Moment."

     ...our dearest daughter might remember, and hopefully she feels our endearing love, for her.

Proverbs 22:6
Train up a child in the way [s]he should go: and when [s]he is old, [s]he will not depart from it.

The Land of Swan

The Land of Swan... & colorful peacocks

     A tender "yield" moment in the (somewhat cheesy and predictable) movie, The Princess Diaries, hits my vulnerable Achilles heel. It is a warm, relationally colorful, grandparent-to-grandchild connecting moment that can almost be missed by the untrained eye. 

     The unexpected death of gawky Teen Mia's physically absent and long-distance father (and unbeknownst to her, the Prince of Genovia) creates tension. Mia must choose to either remain a commoner, or opt for a microwave-speed, ugly-duckling TO graceful-swan, transformation. 

     Does indignant, tomboy, frizzy-haired, braces-laden, clumsy Teen Mia want to be royal? No way! Queen Grandmother's recent, first-ever, face-to-face introduction into Commoner Mia's American life, combined with swan stressors, is ripe for relational deep-freeze. Mia does not feel like a princess, and she's failing in every way.

     Rather than creating a larger grand-gap, the busy yet endearing Queen clears her schedule. She keenly senses her granddaughter's feelings of inadequacy, discouragement, and Princess rigors. She understands that relationship equals T.I.M.E., and the fun factor has been sorely lacking. Queen Grandmother intentionally chooses "the important over the urgent" [Covey] combined with the warm, extended-hug, bigger-picture-approach:

"Let's have fun together...

will you be my San Francisco tour guide?

Yielding MUSTANG MOMENT: ...alright, Mia, we'll take your

undependable, treasured, vintage MUSTANG."

       Queen Grandmother not only chooses to invest time, she also communicates selflessness. Spending time with Mia is important, but she concedes to an unexpected extra. It is the figurative bright red cherry on the ice cream sundae; the green pepper topping on the pizza; the color-popping free wax protection with a car purchase; the Mustang Moment. She agrees to ride in Mia's undependable, jerky yellow Mustang, driven by her teenage granddaughter, chugging up steep San Francisco hills. 

     The Mustang Moment speaks yielded royalty. Queens deserve safety. They warrant chauffeured, luxury cars. (At times, it seems that we "grands" deserve our comforts and royal preferences, too.) Instead, Throughout the uncomfortable and daring Mustang experience, she bends, but her royal light never breaks.

A yielding (germ-sharing) toothbrush moment

      The Queen's "yield" broadcasts vulnerability, understanding, humility. Her tender Mustang Moment unleashes my blubbery, all-consuming, ugly cry. Did her treasured little duckling successfully navigate: THE LAND OF SWAN? 

     And, on a personal note, will this DeDe healthfully model meaningful yet tasteful yielded "Mustang Moments" to her ducklings, and others, revealing Savior God (Jesus)? 

Matthew 5:13-16: 13 You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. 14 You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your [royal] Father in heaven.

The Grand Factor

     In a Today Show segment, a Boston College study shares intriguing findings that I label, The Grand-Factor. Their research concludes that: "Grandparents and adult grandchildren who are close are both less likely to be depressed." The positive effect is mutual, for the grandparent and the young adult.

     A grandparent helps the young adult to have a link to someone who has "been there & done that; survived; and come out on the other end." Active, surviving grandparent(s) who give back rather than just being cared for benefit from the relationship. Accept grandma's family china set when she offers it; show grandma or grandpa your resume.

     In the movie The Vow (based on a true story), the Grand-Factor is absent, but would have been beneficial. A traumatic head injury leaves young Newlywed Paige with no remembrance of Husband Leo. Her parents, sister, and high school buddies remain distinctly in Paige's memory banks, except for one critical and pivotal piece of family history. Five years previously, her dad's humiliating affair, with Paige's high school buddy, propelled her to sever all ties with family, as well as any law aspirations... and pursue her creative side.

     If anyone needed the Grand-Factor, didn't devastated Paige as an older teen? To have a caring, loving, and close idyllic "Grandparent Walton" with whom to openly PRESENT... her anger, sadness, and tearful humiliation? She needed someone connected, yet balanced... to simply listen and nod his or her head as Paige shares: Doesn't Dad know how humiliated I feel? All of my friends know! How could he do this? I HATE him!! It offends me that Mom stays with him!!!!!!!!

     After a prolonged, brutally honest conversation, an endearingly familiar "game" would begin, for Paige to absorb a special Grand-Factor commitment: Did you know that I love you, Paige?... more than... chocolate-covered strawberries?

     In turn, Paige may have warmly responded with her favorite childhood retort: "You are the best. I love you... more than... apple pie!"