The Next Generation

My family has been going on “romps”–long rambling walks through the pastures of my grandparents’ property–for as long as I can remember.

In the beginning, we romped our way to the old stove, where my mom and aunts used to use cowpies as pretend food to be cooked on the wood-burning stove.

Later on, we romped across fields and through pastures in a circuitous route to the “crick” for some “wading”.

And most recently, we’ve romped through the little stream right below Grandma and Grandpa’s house, out through a few pastures and to the windmill and the “cracks.”

This weekend, I saw that my grandparents were a bit weary and the younguns’ far from worn out–and so I began to gather whoever was willing for a romp. One cousin heard that there was a romp in progress and asked my Aunt Martha, who has been the instigator of romps for as long as I can remember, what the plan was.

She said she didn’t know. That I was planning it. That maybe it was time to pass romps on to the next generation.

Which got me thinking. Aunt Martha was my age when I was born. She probably wasn’t much older than I when she instigated the first romps. And from my earliest memories, she was the fun-planner for the family. She had funny stories to share, she had gifts for everyone, she had some way to make each kid feel oh so special.

And now I, the next generation, have the opportunity to do the same.

I thought of it as I walked along beside my young cousin, discussing long legs and whether our other little cousin came along just to have some one to talk at. I thought of it as I called some cousins near to show them gooseberries–and to encourage them to give one a try–even if they are rather tart. I thought of it as I held open a half a dozen barbed wire fences so children could slip between the wires. I thought of it as I untied the water bottle from my waist so a straggler could have a drink from the windmill-pumped well water. I thought of it as I assisted cousins across the boggy little stream as we neared home.

I thought, “Wow. I really am the next generation.”

And I thought, “I couldn’t do it better than my aunt Martha–but I’m sure gonna try to do it just as well.”