I glance around the Chuck E. Cheese’s and notice that my fifty-five years makes me the oldest person in the place. Along with about 60 or 70 children running back and forth between video games and such, I see mostly young mommies or daddies in their twenties or early thirties.

All of these young parents seem to possess that same tired look that I see in the eyes of my oldest daughter. Raising kids is not for the lazy or the squeamish. You cannot begin to match their energy level but you have to always figure out a way to keep up with them.

I take a bite of pizza. Hmmmmm, not a bad pie.

“Pop Pop, come here and look,” yells a handsome little four-year-old boy who has just mastered a game wherein some animals pop up out of holes and he hits them on the head with a hammer. It just takes one token, and as Pop Pop has provided him with a whole cup of tokens, these poor creatures are really in for some trouble.

BONK...... Owwwwwww, HAHAHA! Nothing like the laughter of a grandson.

“Cool, Luke, you are really good at that one, look at all the tickets you are winning,” I exclaim as I watch a beaver take a hit. BAM!

You see, each game awards the children tickets that can be redeemed on the way out for all kinds of little toys and gifts… which brings me to Breanne. At age eight, she is simply beautiful. The walking image of her mother Sabrina and her Mom Mom, my Mary. It’s amazing to see the woman I love so represented in the life force of my granddaughter.

Bre is playing skee-ball. Good old skee-ball, a game that hasn’t changed in a hundred years. Roll the ball down the little alleyway, up it flies eventually landing in one of several holes, each one progressively harder to get. The more difficult holes award more cumulative points and Bre is racking up tickets.

“I am really, really good, huh, Pop Pop?” Bre smiles. (Hello, Mary. Hello, Sabrina.)

“You are the best, Hon. Are you guys finished eating?” I yell loud enough for Luke to hear.

“I am full, Pop Pop.....” BONK...... “Oowwwww,” Luke yells with glee.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” says Breanne. “One more game though... okay?”

Okay! I start to gather up all of their tickets, and we eventually make our way to the little redemption center at the front of Chuck E. Cheese’s. A very cool place really. Good food, lots of games, children running around and laughing. A little carnival by the mall. As John Mellencamp might say, “Ain’t that America!”

Between the three of us (I did shoot some hoops and earned a few myself), we had about 280 tickets. Plenty enough for a space gun for Luke, but well short of what was required for a Barbie Make Up Kit. I grabbed Breanne before she headed back for the skee-ball game and proceeded to negotiate with a young eighteen-year-old behind the counter who had a pin sticking through her nose. Miss Pierce eventually sold me the Barbie kit and everyone was happy.

Especially me. You see, I am a man of the road and over all of these years I have missed a lot of good, home stuff. I am not complaining for God has blessed me with a great career, and I have always believed that for everything worthwhile there is always a price to be paid. My sacrifice has been missing a lot of quality time with my daughters, Jennifer and Sabrina.

Now I am a grandfather taking two beautiful children to Chuck E. Cheese’s and then to a movie about a talking mouse. Pop Pop is on cloud nine. We sing and tell jokes as we drive around town.

“You know why there is a fence around the cemetery?” I ask.

Bre and Luke scream the answer together as one, “BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE DYING TO GET IN THERE!”

“You know how many people are dead in there?”

“ALL OF THEM!”

More laughter and carrying on.

“Shut your little pieholes!” I yell and that brings on more laughter. I finally pull into the driveway of their home where mommy and daddy are waiting to put the two very sleepy kids to bed. I drive off amazed at how many sour gummy worms a four-year-old boy can eat during one movie, especially after pizza at Chuck E. Cheese’s.

The cell phone rings. It is Mom Mom. “How did it go?”

“Just great, Hon, just great! I’ll be home soon.”

Often Mary and I take the grandkids out together but tonight it had been decided that just Pop Pop should take them and, as always, my time with these children is never forgotten. Each memory is as clear as crystal.

You haven't lived until you ride around in big circles on a John Deere tractor with a little grandchild fast asleep on your lap. Taking them fishing or to a movie or playing catch or a game of Checkers or Trouble can be as refreshing as a summer rain. Being a grandparent allows you to spoil them rotten and then... take them home. That is all part of the Great Plan, I guess, and it certainly works for Mary and me. You should see Christmas!

After arriving back home I cannot help reflecting back upon the circle of time that is passing before me. Two empty bedrooms now exist where once slept the two beautiful little girls who grew up under our own watch.

My Jennifer who is now twenty-nine and my Sabrina who is thirty three have each turned into two wonderful and responsible young woman who, thankfully, each married a strong, sturdy, and hard working all American boy. And for all of this, I am very thankful.

Jen lives in Florida and is now a Vice President of a cutting edge marketing firm, and Sabrina who lives right here in Tennessee is an interior designer, as well as being mommy to Bre and Luke.

The responsibility of bringing up Bre and Luke does not rest with Mary and I. We are on the peripheral, as we should be, lending support and help when needed and, quite frankly, enjoying all the good parts.

However, the same old worries still exist. Will they be healthy? Will they be sane? Will they survive driving and college and fads and friends? Will they make something positive out of their opportunity to live in America or will they be a constant heartbreak to their parents?

As a father… I have been through this process already and, let’s face it, there is just so much that we can do. The rest is always a crapshoot and, hopefully, God in His infinite wisdom is guiding the roll of the dice. As a Pop Pop, I constantly ask God to protect these little ones who are now a part my life. One day, a few years back, I received some very positive direction... and it came from my granddaughter.

When Breanne was a few months shy of turning three years old, we had a conversation that I will never forget as long as I live. A conversation that brings me comfort to this very day. We were sitting on the floor of her bedroom and she was describing for me, in a very serious fashion, the different creatures who lived under her bed and in her closet. I was fascinated.

“Daddy says that it is just my ‘imaginationum’… but I can see them all quite clearly, Pop Pop,” she said.

“Well, spirits and beings do exist, Bre, ummmm, the Bible even says that they do,” I answered.

“They are real, Pop Pop, and I can see them!” she insisted.

She proceeded to explain their colors and shapes and demeanors, and I found myself totally absorbed. I had never had a conversation like this in my entire life and I felt honored that she was sharing her heart with me.

A few quiet moments passed.

“Are any of these guys bad?” I asked.

“Some are!”

“Do you get scared of them?”

“Nope! You see, Pop Pop, nothing can hurt me because of the Angel. He protects me. He is from God.” She was smiling now and looking so beautiful.

“Is he in the room now?” I asked as my spine tingled just a bit.

She whispered as if sharing a secret. “I can’t always see him, Pop Pop, but he told me that he is always here for me... and I believe him.”

Then... so do I.

May God always keep a watchful eye on… Bre and Luke.