5/05/2014

Last Three Minutes


Our one and only grandchild, Adrian, celebrates his seventh birthday today somewhere in another world people call the US of A. 

Obviously we can’t be there because oceans and air miles separate us. But I remember him fondly now as I look back to the last time he was with us late last year.

His parents left him with us for three days and in those treasure-filled hours, we relished indulging his pleas for “last three minutes.”

A well-disciplined kid, he knew he had to live with some parental rules. But we are no longer parents, Tony and I, we have morphed into guiltless doters. So when Adrian had gone beyond scheduled meals or naps, enjoying whatever activity he fancied, we would say “Enough.”

He would counter with a syrupy, heart-melting smile, “Last three minutes, please.”

We relent—too quickly. Our last three minutes is not absolute. It is a grace moment; it goes beyond the ticking of the clock; it purrs to the little one's bidding. 

And this perceptive, smart boy knew it. (Ooops, and now his parents know it, too!) 

On his birthday today, our wish is that he remembers and will come back to revel in  those last three minutes outpoured by his doters somewhere out in a world doddering seniors like us call home.  

Happy birthday, Adrian! May you grow up knowing and loving our God, the One who gives us the chance to experience the joy of granting you the last three minutes.




 

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