“Uncle Tim, you go on Grandpa’s side,” urged Sam, as he eschewed a sensible game of attacker/ defender/ goalie in favour of using both goals on the field. Yes, 9-year-old Sam would take on the combined might of 35-year-old Tim, once a fine junior football striker, and Grandpa, the manager of his then team.
But, such were Sam’s energy and improving dribbling skills, he threatened to run rings around us. It took all our united efforts, including a few lobbed long-range goals, to hold him to a 9-9 draw. My new hip has restored my mobility enormously, but my stiff back and poor balance restrict my ability to twist and turn. The proof of this was a painful, grazed knee where I slipped over on the baked surface which ceased to be grassy somewhere in between heatwave Number 3 and 4. Tim fared better although his fitness wasn’t that of the energetic lad from Normanton Athletic days.
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Throughout our grandchildren’s visit at the start of the summer holidays, Grace was on form with her astutue observations. When we’d last visited them in London, she proudly announced,
“We’ve got the grandparent bread,” pointing us to the loaf they’d bought specially with our fillings in mind, rather than the crusty bread they prefer. She was looking forward to some of Grandma’s sticks with her cereal.
This time, as we set out in our car, she listened to the crackling of the tyres on the road and asked,
“Grandpa, why’s your street full of rocks?” And ask she might well! Our new councillors are making it a priority to fill potholes, so they started with our road, which had been perfectly resurfaced last autumn, converting a beautifully smooth surface into a rough one on which we cyclists fear skidding. Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings…
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Returning to the theme of being energetic, we booked Sam and myself onto the Inflatable session at Brighouse Leisure Centre. Sam made his usual friend with whom he raced along the contraption, completing it around twenty times.
I decided I must have a go. With much trial and error, by twisting my arthritic body, I taught myself to negotiate the first four sections but came unstuck, time after time, on the yellow ‘wall’ with red footholds, plunging into the depths below. These comfortably held Sam’s weight but not mine. With immense pride I overcame this obstacle and managed the entire course once, taking about ten times as long as Sam and his mate.
Grace, meanwhile, had enjoyed an afternoon at Eureka, the National Children’s Museum in Halifax. But the next morning, we took both children to ‘Dare2Air’, a massive inflatable play gym at Huddersfield Leisure Centre.
As ever, Sam went off like the wind, finding playmates and scampering up the floppy inflatable ladders before zooming down the slides. 5-year-old Grace approached the challenges with caution, so it fell to Grandpa John to keep an eye on her and to climb the ladders behind her, holding her on my lap as we slid. With time she gained confidence and so needed less of my intervention.
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I sometimes feel sad that my body’s a shadow of its former self; that the vigour, strength and flexibility of my younger days have long gone. But I’m immensely pleased that our grandchildren possess lithe, healthy bodies, bursting with energy and new life. I almost feel like John the Baptist who said about Jesus, “He must increase, and I must decrease.”
However, don’t misunderstand me…I’m not (quite!) done; there’s life within the Ole Dog yet!
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Note: the picture of Brighouse Pool is from the Leisure Centre’s Facebook page. That of Dare2Air is from their website. The cover picure is generated by AI.
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