Tuesday what... toodles? something. Or- John's all grown up

Just did a bit of reflective writing... and it's hard to turn that off when it starts.
-Was looking at old pix of Mom's dad and Dad's mom. Those 2 very strong personalities, both in their 90's now, have outlived their spouses and are still, relatively speaking, going strong. Going, anyway. Do strong personalities always live longer? I don't think so. These 2 have, though, and I'm very much hoping to see them next summer. Living across the ocean from family makes it not always possible to be there- like for funerals. It's just life. For a lot of people. So, I'm very much hoping to see them and spend some time with them.
-Somebody made the comment recently: N thought she had to choose her family or X. And it hit me- there was a time when Dad's family thought we'd done that- chosen X instead of them, family. We chose X instead of Y. And we kept our family and kept loving them and stayed a part of them. I think they eventually came to see that. I hope so.
-Oh yes- John. hmmm.
Once upon a time- in 1997, June to be exact, I spent some time (1 month, in fact) helping out on a fairly large building project. Mostly, I helped feed people and launder their (and my) clothes and change bed linens- girl stuff like that. There was a very lively skinny little kid there, John. He was about 6 or so and lived there with his dad, mom and big bro and sis. Every now and again, other people came to help and they'd bring other little people along and J and the Littles would have a blast. One day- the day they finished digging out the pit for the septic tank- it rained. Actually, it rained every single day (or nearly) as I recall. And, John and another Little were out in the mud by the pit having a blast. At noon, Wanda and I were at the top of the hill when J and Other Little came up with the guys- and J & OL were completely unrecognizable, covered from head to foot in mud. Totally. Top To Bottom. They'd had a mud fight- thrown it in great gloppy handfuls at each other. I don't remember if a certain person named Ruth was on the spot or if W and I just instantly knew that no 2 people looking like that would ever be admitted into any dining area under R's eyes. At any rate, W & I took garden hoses and hosed those 2 off. I had John. He was little and skinny and shivering but he stood there and let me hose him off... until I noticed the water coming out of the tops of his knee high rubber boots and had a stab in my heart and stopped. Someone took them over to where the driers vented outside the house and parked them in the warm air there. As I recall, they loved every minute of it. I don't think their clothes ever did come out white again... but no one seemed to mind too much.
The thing is- I was reading someone else's blog recently and noticing the pix of her niece and Niece's b-friend. And suddenly began to see something vaguely familiar in the face of B-friend. And his name was John. Hmmm. So- I got to thinking and realized that my John story was 13 1/2 years old. Which could make him about 19. Oh my. So I wrote and asked. And- Goodness Gracious- The same kid. All grown up. Unreal. In my mind, I realized, he was still a scrawny skinny pale 6 year old, full of spice and orneriness wearing boots up to his knees. So- when did this happen? This growing up bit. And who else has gone and done that when I wasn't looking? Ok- I know this in not a new thing. I know I've talked about it a lot. I know everyone feels like kids just whizz by them at the speed of light.
But honestly? I suddenly realized why parents sometimes have a '2nd family' when the older kids begin to, well, get older. It must be hard to say good-bye to those precious little people- so full of zest and life and naughtiness (sometimes) but so ready to love and so needful of comfort. I mean- I'm having a hard time and I don't even have any of my own.
Of course it's the best and right thing for them to grow, to develop and to become beautiful young adults. That's best. That's how it's supposed to be. But? Can we just, please, hang on- for a minute here- to the Little-ishness of the Littles?
I'm seriously wondering if my nephews and nieces are still even short. Oh help.