If You Go Down to the Woods Today...

The title of this post is from a song I loved as a child. I hope Baby Bear is going to like it too, though I seem to have lost the tape that played it (and come to think of it, we don't have any devices that play tapes in our house anyway).

The reason for the title, however, is that the Bears are coming to town today. (The song is Teddy Bear Picnic, and it's kind of scary, considering we're talking about teddy bears and not real bears in the song....Google the lyrics, they're kind of ominous.) I'm excited about their arrival, because they are, quite honestly, the best in-laws anyone could ever ask for. And I'm not saying that because I think they might read this blog, because they don't even know about it. So there. I'm saying it because it's true.

Grandpa and Grandma Bear are the hardest working folks you'll ever meet. They never stop asking what they can do, or better yet, just figuring out what needs to be done and doing it. Grandpa Bear reminds me in many ways of my father.

My father, Baby Bear's grandpa who he will never get to meet, was the exact same way. I remember vividly the day he came to visit and I asked how to fix a drawer that was off its tracks. Instead of doing it himself, he told me how I could do it. I remember feeling proud, but strangely sad about that interaction. I was proud thinking that he now viewed me as such a grown-up that he wanted me to do it myself, and sad thinking that somehow that made me less his baby.

I now know, looking at the dates of that visit, that he was beginning to lose his fight with cancer at that point. This was the reason he did not offer to fix the drawer, because the fight his body was raging against itself just left him too damn tired. That was the turning point, the beginning of the end, and from that point forward, it was only through his sheer determination that he fought it off.

He fought because I was to graduate later that year, and nothing was going to make him miss that. I was his baby, and I was accomplishing something no one in our family had. Not because of lack of drive or discipline, or intelligence, but because I had far more opportunity and privilege than any family member before me. That was his doing, so I thank whoever was responsible for letting him see the fruits of his labor that year.

I do miss him though, often more when the Bears are in town, thinking of how many wonderful and amazing things could be done in our house with my father and Grandpa Bear working together. We'd likely have a swimming pool, or an addition, or at least a basement that doesn't leak water in strange places. I know he's watching though, and will be through all of what is to come for Mama Bear and me in the next few weeks.

And I know he'll be watching Baby Bear throughout his entire life. When I was a kid in Catholic school (again, two mentions in two posts!) they told us we had guardian angels to watch over us. They never explained who these people were, and I found it slightly troubling that some randomly assigned angel was deciding what I should and shouldn't do. I mean, where was the line between my free will and their helpful guiding hand? How did the assigner of the guardian angels know how to match us up? Did I get a gay one? The questions went on and on (much to the chagrin of religion teachers).

Guardian angels are not high on the list of my beliefs, but I do believe that those who have truly loved us, and gone before us to wherever it is we go, keep an eye on those of us who are still back here. I will sometimes catch myself thanking my Dad when I remember something important, or narrowly miss some calamity or another, or have something really great happen. And if I know my father at all, he'll certainly be looking out for Baby Bear.

So, with the Bears here in the everyday, and my dad looking on from afar, you should be just fine Baby Bear. Just fine. Despite the fact that Mama Bear and I may not know the slightest bit about choosing a baby monitor (?!?! have you ever seen the choices available?) or actually putting those cloth diapers on a human baby. Honestly, it will be okay. But now, it's time for me to get moving, so I can be ready for the cavalcade of projects that is a visit from my in-laws.