Oh, Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder consider all the worlds Thy hands have made....
I see the stars; I hear the rolling thunder -- Thy power throughout the universe displayed!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee, "How great thou art! How great thou art!"
I don't know for sure, but I suspect that at some point in my childhood when storms might have scared me, someone must have sung that to me while one was raging. Whatever the genesis of this association, it has served me well during storms of all sorts. There's not much else I'll ever have of value to pass along to Rosemary, but maybe one day she'll sing this to her grandchild during a storm. If that's my legacy, it's not a bad one.
As it happened, Scoutmaster Henry (aka "Pop") was supposed to be spending the whole weekend in the woods of Camp Hobbs with the Scouts of Troop 1, but as weather reports became progressively more dire the decision was made to clear camp and come home. He turned up at Rosemary's, and I handed her over to him so that the two of them could have some sweet time, too.
They enter a zone, these two, when they are together. Today Rosemary was fascinated by the fuzzy hair on her Pop's arms.
There are bigger moments in the lives of a grandparent and grandchild, to be sure, but the million little moments like these she will have with her Pop, her Papa, her Granna, and her Grandmama -- and all the other adults in her life who get to be part of her memories -- are pretty awesome.