Last night I arrived at my brother’s house to a very pleasant surprise. One of my niecelettes, A, was wide awake having a late-night (at least for her) snack with her mom. After a whole bunch of hugs and kisses, the east coasters declared it bedtime for all. After all, they have school and work this morning.
As expected, I was woken up this morning by an adorably shy niecelette. According to all reports, N gets really excited about my arrival, but she still needs about 10 minutes to warm up to me. But after she gets over her initial shyness, she becomes a little chatterbox. After a little bit, her sister came downstairs to join us. Then the two of them both started talking at once, desperate to share every little detail of their lives with me.
Since the girls woke me up, they had a chance to see me in my PJs. This morning I was wearing my Reed sweatshirt and pajama pants with frogs on them. My Reed sweatshirt has a huge, white “REED” across the chest. N, an eager reader, noticed the word on my sweatshirt and asked me what it said. I asked if she could read it, and she said I had just read it for her. Not a bad pun for a not-quite-6 year old.
Punning runs strong in my family, but my father has always been the master. He has retained much of his punning prowess, even as he slips into dementia. Many of his puns remain groan-worthy. However, I have a new appreciation for them as they provide a bridge to my father as I have known him for most of my life.
Yesterday, on the way home from the airport, my brother was telling me that the girls had recently been going through old pictures from when they were little. They were shocked to see pictures of my father kneeling down to play with them on the floor from before they could walk. They were having a difficult time reconciling theses images of their grandfather with the man they know now.
Recently they have been asking about my father and why he is so much “older” than their other grandparents. Chronologically, he has a few years on everyone else, but the real issue is’t his age, it’s his frailty. They see my father shuffle with his walker and the care we all take to protect him from falls. They also see that their other 3 grandparents are healthy and active. I’m glad that there are pictures of my father playing with his granddaughters from a time before they remember. I’m even mostly glad that N takes after her grandfather’s punning habits. Hopefully, punning will create a point of connection between N and her grandfather who loves her dearly.