"On Homecoming and Timing"

The 15-year-old grandgirl suggested it--“Nana, you should write about it in your blog.  You talk all the time about perfect timing and how everything has a point and purpose.”  I could not believe my ears.  For those of you who frequent this blog you will note I haven’t written much about this grandgirl, because—well, because she’s 15, and she’s a girl.  The younger grandgirls delight in reading anecdotes about themselves and their daily lives; an accompanying picture makes it that much better.  This one, probably not so much and understandably so.  I double-checked to make certain she wasn’t just speaking in the passion of the moment, and I received her consent to do just that.

This is the one who made me a grandmother.  I lived with her family for a year and a half from the time she was 6 months old.  We were roommates, the two of us sharing a very small bedroom.  I was present for a long list of firsts—first baby immunizations, first steps, a first Christmas morning, a first birthday, a first trip to Disneyland.  She and I were both very early risers, so the early morning hours belonged to us.  It would not be stretching the truth to say we were part of a “mutual admiration society.”  

The day had included a lunch with several high school classmates in a small town north of where I live.  I knew I would have time to get some work done afterward so stuck my work clothes in the truck, planning on stopping by my daughter’s house on the way back home to change.  It was then just a short jaunt to the task of cutting back ivy.

It was the middle of the week, so I didn’t anticipate seeing my grandgirl, assuming she’d be in school.   I was informed, however, that she was upstairs.  “Helloooo,” I yelled up the staircase, “why aren’t you in school?”  The answer came down the stairs that it was a half-day.

“You’re here just in time,” my daughter said.  Inviting a girl to attend homecoming has gone to a whole other level.  A great deal of creativity and thought goes into extending the invitation, making it fun, personal, and unique.  A young man had called asking if he could come out; the rumor had been going around school that he was going to be the lucky guy to have my grandgirl as a date.  And I had arrived on site at the exact  time he was supposed to show up.

Her eyes are the first thing you notice when you see her, and then you see the smile.  You get the whole package all at once--a pop, a flash of  life.  These two have been good friends for quite a while, and I have no doubt he has been mesmerized.

She came down the stairs, having received a phone call and the request that she meet him out front.  I will always remember the excited look on her face, the anticipation she emanated as she walked out the door.  He had gone to a great deal of thought and trouble for this—a large poster board on which a message had been written, along with the request that she be his homecoming date.  A variety of candies had been incorporated, filling in the blanks.   

I was impressed.  I was also thrilled to be part of this time in my grandgirl’s life. 

After he left, we talked—about how perfect the timing was that I was able to be there.  That was when she said I needed to write about it.  I hugged her--more than once, telling her I didn’t know if I was happier for her having been invited by such a nice young man, or that I was able to witness it.  I think it is a toss-up.

I write often about the element of timing, probably because it is so much a part of my life.  "Not a moment too soon; not a moment too late."  My Heavenly Father gave me a gift today, a surprise.  Our experiences, our memories are exactly that--gifts.  And it is all about the timing.  I am a wealthy woman.