As I have grown older, my heart has inched its way into my throat. That old phrase refers to watching something that gives a person great pause . . . I think I am the only person in the group who has to work at staying calm while my grandchildren are free- climbing a three-story building.
Grandchildren are Mountain Goats.
The mountain goats where we live are beautiful and cling to the rocks with their sticky Velcro feet. We have watched them jump across impossible openings with ease. They climb around in groups and while they are munching on the grass they are nudging each other to jump here and jump there.
The little goats are pushing and shoving and goofing around.
Mountain goat mothers must have nerves of steel
falling baby mountain goats must bounce.
Just like the goats, grandchildren have natural ability and no reasonable fear. While there is a wide net half-way down and plenty of rope to catch if they fall, the prospect is unsettling to me.
Their parents are climbing too. So is Grandpa.
I have promised not to take any deep, deep breaths or shout out
” YIKES “
or make any other Grandma sounds such as “Ohhhhhh…..Ahhhhh….Oh no”
but to sit quietly with my hands in my lap.
( Unless my hands are on my camera )
I console myself with
” if their parents aren’t worried . . .why should I be ?”
( Brave Mama)
Grandpa is keeping up with the kids. I counted six grandchildren in this photo alone.
I hear lots of “GO Grandpa” and “watch me, Grandpa” coming from the very top of the tower.
( I am obviously watching and listening because I am taking pictures. )
“Tell a man he is brave and you help him to become so.”
“So, tell me I am brave and let me know when it starts working.”