We wanted to do things WITH our grandchildren that we would all remember.

For various resons, they won’t forget last night. Our granddaughter, 9, went to an Olivia Rodrigo concert with our daughter, in “America.” (We enjoyed the pictures.)

We stayed home with our grandson, almost 6, hoping to spend the night sleeping outside in a tent for his first time. (Hope may be too strong a word. We knew that it was iffy.)

It was unquestionably memorable, but perhaps not for the reasons we had hoped. At least two weeks ago, my husband hauled out the still-in-good-shape 50 yr old tent, the kind you-can-stand-up-in. He pitched it in the field on the other side of the swale outside the dining room doors, near the Alder, where we can just barely see it through the trees.  It is the tent we used in 1972 when we moved back to the Pacific Northwest from San Diego.

And now, we are both near 80. We approached this event with a fair bit of experience and a false sense of confidence. Only the almost 6-year-old managed to actually sleep in the tent. We spent a night in anticipation of elusive sleep, and eager listening to the cries of coyotes, various owls, a dog down the road and intermittent flocks of cars recently arrived on the ferry.

With hind sight, we now see that we must have done just about everything wrong that one could do for a 1st night in a tent. First of all, we were SO tired from trying to keep up with this childhood energy we don’t have, that we were ready for bed long before dark.  And, since our grandson was anxious to try out the tent, we moved in at least an hour before dark. Too soon.

After more than a bit of my agitation earlier on about the children’s use of tablets during their visits with us, it was NOT a mistake to bring along my tablet with a just-right book of “Scary Stories for 7 Yr Olds”. Our grandson was very sure that he wanted scary stories in the tent. And I was very clear that I don’t actually know any. Before heading outside to the tent, we had  done an extensive search for a suitable eBook.  Together, we found this just-right-level of scary stories. The very smart almost 6 yr old could easily see that any book labeled “Scary Stories for 6 Yr. Olds” was not at all scary for him. 

We were off to a good beginning. Between the two of us, we read five of the scary stories. They were just right… scary enough, but not too much. And it was still not dark enough for real scary, so one of the trips to the “bathroom/ bushes”, turned into a Flashlight Exploration Adventure. He finally came back.

The actual fall into sleep took more than a bit of waiting, and some hugs. But, once the waiting and the hugs took effect, he fell into a sleep so deep that not even our bright head lamps could disturb him. That became evident when we had to move him to the middle “cot.”   He had fallen asleep on my arm. Then, once moved to his own “cot,” he was sleeping so deeply that as he curled up into a little ball, leaning away from the back of the “zero gravity chair,”  the previously flat “bed” became an upright chair, partially pushing him off.  Nevertheless, bright lights, being moved from one place to another, pushing off his covers, our quiet talking, and all, he slept for close to 7 hours. We did not.

We, who thought we knew something about sleeping in tents, and given how old both we and the tent were, had miscalculated various aspects of this memorable night.

The red chairs that are marvelous for lounging in the shade of the porch are not marvelous for sleep. My husband could not get comfortable, and tried valiantly to “stick it out”, but was the 1st to abandon the tent and return to the comforts of a real bed around 2 am. I, who am still recovering from a broken pelvis, can’t yet comfortably sleep on my side, so attempting sleep in the red chair was “fine” once I got a second layer of blankets. I was comfortable., or so I thought. And, along with keeping track of my co-sleepers,  was thrilled by the experience of the slow arrival of darkness and quiet. 

Once the lights were off, I saw only full darkness. Nothing more. But, not long afterward realized how much I could see from this tent on the edge of a field in the woods of South Whidbey Island, WA. It continued to be a surprise each time I looked up into the tall trees I am used to seeing from the side. Out of the mesh window above my “cot”  I saw the 100′ tall trees, and then some stars and possibly a planet. Even if I couldn’t sleep, I could and did savor the place,  the sounds, the view. Even with all of that, I did not sleep in the tent.

Even though it was August, it was much colder than we had thought, and the lightweight quilts we used as covers did not keep us warm.

Just about 4 am, there was subtle movement next to me. Our grandson was beginning to wake up. More than beginning. He was actually fully awake and was ready to go into the house. For him, 4 am is his usual 7 am waking time at home. He was both able and proud to lead me via the “shortcut” through the field back into the house. And then, I suspect, quietly but quickly disappeared into the guest room to play some video game. He must have fallen sleep later on. He was still asleep in his bed at 8:30 when I work up in my bed.

Even if we remember this night in very different ways, we have a day to remember. And laugh at, and learn from.