Friday, June 11, 2010

Second Grade Senior

“I am going to this school, Grammy. I need to go to this school,” Gabby excitedly exclaimed. It wasn’t going to happen, but the small future graduate was ready for her cap and gown.

High School Graduation parties are events that rival the graduation itself. For the safety of the kids, elaborate parties are held within the school walls. I remember when my son graduated. A huge airplane fuselage was designed at the entrance of the school. Halls and halls were decorated, food piled high and events to fill the entire evening were set in place to keep these kids partying in a safe atmosphere. At my daughter’s graduation party, I was part of the designated mini-band announcing drawings for door prizes. Dressed in a toga toting a bass drum, I marched through the school most of the time embarrassing my daughter and having a ball.

The event had been on my calendar for weeks. My friend’s son was graduating. I was asked help prepare the food for the party. So at 9:30 yesterday morning. I entered the portal to the school where my own children graduated and headed to the mounds of fruit that needed to be cut up and jabbed into a pineapple tree.
We cut fruit until the middle of the afternoon when the sandwiches showed up. Each had to be cut, a pick inserted then placed in small cups.

It was nearing time for the families to go home and dress for the main event. I dashed off to pick up Gabby at school. She could come back and help with the project.

I chased everyone out of the kitchen then Gabby and I took over.
“Grammy, I will be the pick girl and the paper cup girl,” Gabby informed me.
“Sounds good,” I said looking at the fourteen containers of sandwiches.
I cut sandwiches while Gabby jabbed them with picks. When the next batch was ready to cut, she would step out into the hall and re-enter the kitchen as “Paper Girl”. Our little sandwich system continued over the next couple of hours. Lettuce covered the counter and scattered across the floor. My back hurt, my feet hurt and Gabby never ceased entertaining me.

“Gabby, open the door,” I said with a bit of concern.

The door opened to a giggling girl. I stepped from the walk-in refrigerator.

“Lock me in, Grammy,” she said. “I’ll eat all the food!” Teasing, laughing, we passed the time.

Every so often she did her twirl dancing around the kitchen equipment.
“This is fun, Grammy,” she laughed.

Finally, the last sandwich was cut, the counters cleaned, knives washed and stowed. We walked back through the empty school looking at all the decorations. I took her to the auditorium where I had taught, my children had acted and memories had been made all those many years ago. Gabby danced across the stage peeking behind curtains.

“I need to go here, Grammy,” she said. “I love it. I want this to be my school. Can I, Grammy?”

I tried to explain that she would go to a high school just as exciting as the one we were in. “No, Grammy. I need to go here.”

The day ended with a grandma holding the hand a second grader who had grown in experience that day. Her view of the world enlarged. She and her Grammy saved the day.

“Grammy, this was the best day ever.”

Yes, Gabby. It was the best…..because of you.

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