Getting Old

 

My wife and daughter-in-law had a yard sale a few years ago (one of several).  We were cleaning up, and my job was to take the folding tables back to church and dispose of the hopeless junk that did not sell into the church dumpster.  I asked my six-year-old grandson and his five-year-old cousin if they wanted to go with me.  Of course, they did!  Who wouldn’t want to ride in a pick-up truck with Granddaddy?  I told them that I was old, and they would have to help me.  They both assured me that they would help.  And then the discussion began.  Conley said that she missed her Pop Pop.  Pop Pop was their other grandfather.  She said, “I wish I could see Pop Pop again, but he’s gone to heaven.”  Greyson, the more mature six-year-old said, “Well Pop Pop died because he was old, and old people die, you know.”  Conley and Greyson looked at each other for a moment and then they both looked at me.  I knew what they were thinking.  Greyson said, “Well, Granddaddy, you are getting old too, and you will probably die soon.”  Conley, wanting to encourage me, said, “But at least you will go to heaven, and you can visit with Pop Pop.”  Then they both were quiet and thought some more.  Actually, the five-year-old and the six-year-old just about had the puzzle of life figured out.  Their child-like simplicity was refreshing.  I smiled to myself and thought, “See you soon, Pop Pop, see you soon.”