Tickles and giggles and snuggles and wiggles. Noise and ‘tude, depending on the mood. Games and books, imagination, frustration. Parents, plans, hopes and dreams.

Shabbat dinners at their homes, with their foods and traditions. Singing zemirot as we had done when our kids were young.

The best part of my February sabbatical was being so close for so (relatively) long to our grandchildren and their parents. Seeing them, being with them, in their natural habitats. Oh, we took time to relax some, read some, work on projects some. But nothing was as rewarding as feeling like part of their lives for these few weeks.

Shoveling snow: the oldest making snow angels after clearing some sidewalk, the youngest sitting atop the minivan brushing off the snow. Visiting the winter (!) camp site: cabins with small wood stoves, composting toilets, no running water, outdoor open fire cooking, and everyone and everything smelling of winter and woodsmoke.

We are fortunate and grateful. For the opportunity to refresh. For less familiar surroundings. For the hills and abundant trees of Massachusetts and Maine. For parties marking special occasions and parties for no occasion at all. For having a part in the everyday theater of our children and grandchildren.

May we all have reason and opportunity to feel fortunate and grateful.