So much time has passed but it has been, for the most part, time well-lived.
For two months, I lived with my daughter and grand-girls, acting as extra hands while my son-in-law was away on business. My extra hands, I think, helped keep the wheels on the bus of a busy household which includes a growing home-based business my daughter created and runs.
This was my first lengthy time spent with grandchildren - we have always lived far away and, at most, get two weeks at a time with any of them. During this time, days were full from early morning school prep, helping with housework, cooking and even with the business when extra hands were needed.
Waiting at the bottom of their long, winding driveway for the school bus, both early morning and end of day, gave structure to each day. We filled the morning wait time with silly talk and observations of nature around us. Some days, a little of life's wisdom crept into our conversations.
Their excitement for the day ahead was occasionally conflicted with a little regret to be leaving (the littlest would sometimes double back for a second hug). I remained in the driveway as the bus pulled away, waving back to each girl (they sat in different rows). My heart was full as I returned back to the house for whatever the day ahead had in store for me.
These moments made me feel special for the rarity of this time with them. I believed our experience to be unique because I was the visiting grandmother who was building memories.
One morning my daughter had appointments immediately after bus pick up so she took the girls down in her car. As she pulled out of the driveway after the bus left, she realized she would be following the bus which meant she had to stop each time the bus stopped for more kids.
As she stopped, she watched the same heart-warming start to the day experienced with our own girls. Parents hugged, kissed and waved to their precious little ones as they boarded.
Rather than feeling exasperated as she might knowing the bus would likely make her late for her appointment, her heart filled with each successive scene playing out.
The feeling remained with her throughout the day and, as she told me about it later, I was reminded of many of my morning drives to work.
So often, cars would weave in and around my car and others in a desperate attempt to gain speed; not to be late. I remember thinking, "just get up earlier and you might enjoy the peace of the morning before the start to your day".
How often was I guilty of judging the (usually) senior driver puddling along the highway? As a senior myself now I think I understand that age is not the reason for their pace. It's the knowledge that rushing through life robs us of much. We all reach our destinations whether we speed or take our time.
As you pass a slower driver on the road, respect their choice to take their time. Consider giving them a friendly wave instead of whatever other gesture you had in mind.