4:45AM, I woke up and stumbled out of bed. Dorothy and Mary Beth, our cannon ball sized cat, were still sound asleep sharing their pillow. It was chilly as I padded down to the bathroom, wondering if we were really doing this again. I didn’t have to shave; it was still dark as pitch. Now, wide-awake, I showered and dressed warmly, turtleneck, warm-up pants and heavy sweater. 5:30 was our ETD!

I turned on the TV in my office and listened to some beautiful Easter music. Dorothy entered shortly with a piping hot cup of coffee and two hot cross buns. She was also bundled up for the sunrise service we were about to attend. We left on schedule and were among the first to arrive at the Connecticut River Museum at the foot of Main Street, down the block from our church and directly on the River.

Willing hands were still unfolding chairs on the lawn. A large wooden cross stood on the boardwalk separating the lectern from the water. A portable keyboard was hooked up.

The service began. By now the chairs had all filled, and there were as many people standing in the back as seated. A black lab and an enthusiastic baby completed the congregation.

First light of dawn appeared and reflected off the river. A gentle breeze sprang up and made me glad for the extra layer of clothing. The wide, still expanse of the water was like an empty canvas. From somewhere back in time, images and memories poured forth and filled my mind. I’ll never understand how the more years go by, the sharper my recollections become… decades and distance collapsing, small details coming back to me as sharp and as vivid as though they happened yesterday.

I thought of one Easter at sea, standing the 4-8 watch on the bridge of the USS Abbot (DD-629), first light beginning to show on the horizon. I thought of Easter Sundays with my parents and brother, Ken, during World War II, listening to the latest developments on the radio and wishing for more chocolate rations. I thought of later Easters with Dorothy and my children Graham and Jenny when they were small, packing the family in extra sweaters and having Easter egg hunts on a frigid Fire Island. The service ended, and I headed back home, more than a little morose. Why is it when you’re nearing eighty, the best memories seem to have been made years before?

Then the phone rang. Our grandson Graham is on the last lap of an odyssey that began in late December of last year. His operation for bone lengthening surgery was successful. His daily physical rehab in West Palm Beach is progressing well and on schedule. He and his mom are due to return home to Essex in six weeks, or less. I miss him fiercely.

My daughter-in-law was on the phone, talking excitedly. Dr. Dror Paley, Graham’s surgeon, was being honored that day at the famous International Polo Club in Wellington, Florida. Of all his patients, he had invited Graham, with his mom, to accompany him. The story just kept getting better. As part of the festivities, they asked Graham to participate in the coin flip prior to the polo match between Argentina’s Zacara and the UK team Orchard Hill!

But wait, she said, there’s more… In addition, Graham – as Dr. Paley’s star patient – was to arrive on the field in a bright red Ferrari convertible driven by Antrel Rolle, the all- everything, star New York Giant safety who had recently signed a $37 million dollar, 5-year contract.

This was a lot to absorb in one quick sequence of calls

So much for being lost in the past. The phone rang again. It was Jenny.

“Dad, turn your computer on. Get Mom! Quick!”

I called to Dorothy. Jenny talked me through several steps, deciphering the mystery of live web-streaming. (Never got past computer 101!) It turns out, Graham’s polo match was being broadcast to the world!!! All of a sudden, to my amazement, horses appeared on my screen, followed shortly by a shiny bright red sports car. I came close to a coronary on the spot. An attractive gal got out and proceeded to sing the National Anthem.

The camera quickly panned to the far end zone where the mounted players were assembled. There, right on the screen was the emcee, Dr. Paley, Antrel Rolle and Graham in his wheelchair. Dr. Paley was introduced followed by Antrel and then Graham.

Dr. Paley introduced Graham as one of his patients and asked him several questions. Graham mentioned his brothers and sister stating loudly, “I’m Graham Rider from Essex, Connecticut!” The crowd of well-heeled onlookers roared.

Antrel flipped the coin, Graham close by watching intently. The game was on.

At half time, the large crowd was milling around on the field. I was staring absentmindedly at the screen and all of a sudden the Ferrari reappeared, this time with Graham in the front passenger seat with mom, Paulette, in the back. Graham was grinning and waving to the crowd.

What a thrill for this proud geezer! Another Easter to remember! Maybe that’s the trick to getting older. Instead of living in the past, you live through – and celebrate – the young around you… and take joy and solace in realizing they’re just starting to make memories of their own. One day, Graham will be a month away from eighty, looking out at the water on an Easter Sunday, remembering a red Ferrari and his grandparents, who couldn’t be prouder.

George

Grahamie meets Antrel