Camping was our childhood version of Disney. We would head a few miles down the road to Lake Allatoona, and spend a night or two in a tent at King's Camp, where the lake was muddy and murky. When we waded into the water, we had to make our way past all the stumps that lurked in the thick mud. That final push into deep water was a mercy. But there was nothing more delicious than the eggs and bacon Mama fried on our Coleman stove the next morning, or the smell of the campfire and the hiss of the Coleman lantern that Daddy hung from a nearby tree. He made it magical, telling us stories and being in a perpetual state of boyhood himself. When you have no money, but you have love, a mud-slide on a hill can be paradise.
Ken and I's camping adventures of late bear no resemblance whatsoever to my childhood adventures. I surprised him with an old camper a couple of years ago, a little thing that is adorable (since I turned it into a turquoise, coral and cream Barbie camper). We fixed it up and took it a few places, only to finally admit that we are two barbarian-sized folk that need not only space to spread out, but room to escape in times of peril. Ken felt hemmed in by the little tiny bed in the back. He never likes to have only one escape route. It's a wonder he wasn't in the military. He'd have been a 5-star general by the time he got done. Our last trip was the tipping point and we realized we would either have to quit camping or get a bigger one. So we took the latter option and found a nicer, newer, bigger camper a couple of weeks ago. It has two exits and a bed that's not the size of a Chiclet. You also don't have to climb over anyone if you have to make a midnight run to the bathroom. We're taking it for a practice run in a few weeks.
In the meantime, I went with my son Jon and his family for a several-day trip in their camper, to visit the Ark Encounter in Kentucky. We call their rig "The Split Level." It's huge and boujie, with a big ole refrigerator and multiple ways to sleep, not to mention its own outdoor kitchen. You could almost forget you're camping. Almost.
They planned this trip many months ago, to celebrate their twins' fifth birthday. Little Addison said, "It's a grand adventure!" We drove miles and miles to get to Kentucky, which might as well be Outer Mongolia, when you're traveling with four young children (one of them a baby). It really took us two days before we pulled into the main event: The Ark Encounter. We parked, waited in a long line, boarded a bus, then walked a ways until we passed through a big arch (remember that God put a rainbow in the sky after He promised to never destroy the earth again with water?) The kids were going nuts as we looked up and saw a gargantuan replica of Noah's Ark, right there in technicolor. The kid in me stood, gaping at the sheer size and reality of the thing. Tears came unbidden as so many memories and versions of the biblical story tumbled out of my brain. Faith became a sort of sight as this legend came to life in front of me. There are over 300 cultures that have flood stories. It's not a children's tale, if you think about it.
Jon and Nakitta had several friends staying nearby at the campground. Each night was filled with the squeals and games of children around the campfire. After the kids were put to bed, the men would head back out and stay late into the night talking. Yaya curled up in her bed, read books and slept like an old lady, without apology. It was pretty blissful.
The role of Grandma is so precious, it defies explanation. When God gave us our four children, I felt like I had won the lottery. I had wanted them from the time I was a little girl and then I got to have my very own. I kissed and hugged and drank in their childhoods. They're all grown now and probably have no idea how nuts I was and am about them. My and our job was to raise them, so there were the tough years where you had to make them mind and teach them all the things...Because you love them. So they might not know how much every inch of their sweet skin and bunny eyes made me happy.
Then God gives you grandchildren. It's like winning the lottery, but with double prizes.
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