Time has a way of taking everything it touches and molding it like play dough. To time, nothing is rigid or solid, but everything is soft and pliable and can be, and most often, will be changed and transformed into something different. I spent the evening yesterday with my grandchildren. I watched them play in the backyard. I heard them giggle as they tried to ride Tater like a pony. I watched them argue over who's turn it was to swing in the hammock chair. I followed little one year old Lincoln as he toddled around the backyard and squealed at the chickens and played with the dogs. It was all so precious and delightful. I caught myself slipping back in time and remembering those days long ago when my own children were just like them. They would run through the water on the front lawn when we irrigated the grass. They would chase each other around with BB guns. They would see Mike Marshall drive in the yard to feed the cows and off they would go. It was usually Kate and Steve running as fast as their little legs would carry them out to the haystack so they could "help" Mike feed the cows. I remember Scott and his friend, Jake Bowen, cleaning the hen house for a few dollars. Paul and Zach climbing the trees. Brad, well, bless his heart, he was probably doing the dishes. As I wandered down memory lane I wondered where my babies had gone. What terrible thing had time done to take them and those wonderful, seemingly carefree days away? Then I realized that time had done what it does best and molded things and changed them in to something new and now instead of children, time had given me friends. For my children have become my best friends. After all the years of diapers, bottles, nose wiping, boo boo kissing, chauffering, cooking, cleaning, teaching and loving, time had increased my investment by a thousand fold. Now I have friends who will come at the drop of a hat (or the key stroke of a text message) to help me do even the simplest things, like hold me up against the wall so I can hang a picture above the stairs. They travel with me so I am not alone. They invite to go on special lunches with their daughters and convince me that everything is more fun with Grandma along. They cut my weeds, haul my dirt, care for my livestock so I can travel whenever I please. They go on midnight pancake runs and bring me frozen yogurt. Best of all, they share the next generation of future friends with me. Someday, I hope to look at those precious little grandchildren as they become adults and appreciate how time has molded them into a new group of friends to keep me company.
