PenPenWrites

We are not vacationing with our grown children this year. Lots of people don't ever do it, but we did. We stayed in rustic condos in a resort in Vermont. We hiked mountain trails, we biked protected pathways and we splashed in mountain creeks. We taught our grandkids to skim rocks and to play tennis; they taught us Uno and the joy of an after-dark swim.

Paterfamilias and I are sad to see it come to an end. Was it something we said? No. It's that our grandkids are now teenagers with busy, complicated lives–and friends. They still love their PenPen and BaPa (that's me and Paterfamilias), but now they like to have a friend come along–someone who can mountain bike with them and dive off rocks or go for a run in the valley. Our oldest grandchild is getting ready to go to college in the fall and he has a summer job–which makes scheduling time in Vermont as a three-generation family daunting–even more so than factoring in our grown children's work schedules and business travel demands.

Time moves on. We're going to Vermont for a week anyway–without the kids or grandkids. We love the rugged mountains, the crisp air, the ease that comes with not having to lock your door. You can play tennis at noon in Vermont and not die of the heat. We'll take some hikes–not as challenging as the ones we did with them but we'll still be walking along leafed-in paths that inevitably climb to yet another, sigh, waterfall. We'll enjoy it. But it won't be the same. The heart of the vacation will be missing. Just another of those adjustments we make as parents of grown children and grandparents of their almost-grown children.

Change stirs things up; it adds excitement to life, right?  I'll know more about that when we get back from our vacation for two in Vermont.