Breakfast with Basil. A Note From Jan.

Enjoying California with Heather and family. Flew out just before the blizzard hit full force. Feels good to be warmed by sunshine and a loving family, to see greening of grass, trees and foliage, to smell flowers in late January instead of New England’s familiar shades of white, gray and brown with welcomed spikes of evergreens.

Basil, age 4, and I sat bumper to bumper this morning at the long dining room table,  sharing breakfast and conversation. He’s the one who taught me, “Silent night. Holy day time.” Sitting beside him reminds me just how sacred this space is between waking and sleeping. He’s good company, called me “Jan” with slightly suppressed giggle, like he’d made a remarkable discovery and we were old friends.

“Jan, I’m going to the zoo today.  It’s Evan’s birthday. We’re going to Oakland.  I’m bringing juice boxes.” I asked, “For all the children?” “No, just Evan. He likes juice boxes. Apple’s his favorite.”

Quiet followed while I sipped coffee and he munched cereal.

After awhile Basil said, “I watched Popo’s service this morning until the computer died.  If we plug it in, it will come back.”

“Oh, I’ve not watched it, Bazy. What did you think?”

“Sometimes I wish we were like computers so when we died, you could just plug us back in and we’d come back alive.”

After a long pause, I said, “Basil, I think that’s heaven.  God’s plug in. Heaven’s where your Popo and Grandpa David are alive.”

“Oh!”

And off he ran to get out of his footed pajamas and into clothes fit for a birthday party at a zoo.

I stayed stunned and seated….pondering a thoughtful grandson  and wondering how much more I could learn if I’d stay quiet and share a few more breakfasts with Basil.

---