I wasn’t expecting visitors. It was late, dark, I was about to crawl into bed, crawl under that warm fluffy comforter, snuggle deep into my mountain of pillows. But I’m not one to turn away friendly visitors, at any hour.
Some might have thought it unusual for them to come together, the two of them as a pair. But it wasn’t really. They had met many times before. Conversed at so many gatherings and get-togethers over the years, the way in-laws do, connected together by a common appreciation for their children’s love and a playfully rambunctious affection for their grandchildren. Yes, I was certainly more surprised they’d come at all than that they had come together. Yet, there they were; they we were, standing together, one on each side, me in the middle. My heart swelled with happiness and love.
The visit was short. They lingered briefly, one of those calm, soothing, silent visits you can only have with old friends. Where the still air conveys as much as any words could say, “Hello. How are you? I love you.” The still air, a warm familiar hug. And, then, they had to go; and I had to go to bed.
I crawled into bed, crawled under that warm fluffy comforter, snuggled deep into my mountain of pillows, and smiled. “Goodnight,” I whispered. “Goodnight, Grandpa. Goodnight Buddy.”