Being “on the cusp” is one of my favorite metaphors. The word derives from the Latin “cuspis,” meaning a literal high point, as in the top of an arch. Figuratively it marks a decisive moment in time, of going one way or the other, a transition from being or doing one thing to being or doing something very different.

Right now it aptly describes the position of two grandsons, Rufus and Bob. Each of them is on the cusp of leaving the familiar and comfortable behind, and stepping into a new and exciting, but frightfully uncertain, phase of life.

Rufus, 19, is off to college. Last Thursday as we watched Bob playing soccer for his home-school co-op team, Rufus was on the sidelines being counseled by his parents because he was very stressed out after his first week at Geneva College. Never mind that he already has 27 hours of credits, earned while still in high school. It’s a culture shock that people handle differently, and Rufus needed calming words. We know he’ll be fine.

Bob, two weeks from turning 16, is on the cusp between adolescence and two very adult responsibilities: driving and owning a car, and starting his own business, a lawnmowing service.

Last Monday I spent a work-play day with Bob and the three younger grandsons. Although Bob is dipping his toes in adult pursuits, he is still a kid at heart.

The day began with The 747, who had stayed over with us because his school hadn’t started yet, working with me on firewood for two hours in the morning, tossing logs downhill as I cut them. I showed The 747 how to sharpen the teeth on a chainsaw by hand with a file. He asked and I let him try for himself, and he did a credible job.

Nothing pleases a grandpa more than a grandson asking to teach him how to do something. It will be a few years yet before I teach him use a chainsaw, but those far-off days seem to arrive before you know it, just as Rufus and Bob are suddenly driving cars.

My main goal Monday was to walk the pumpkin fields with the boys to check on the crop. Bob, The Favorite, Lamppost Head and The 747 are partners in running the Pumpkin Patch this year.

“One boy is half a boy and two boys are no boy at all” was one of my mother’s favorite sayings.

As work-brickle as our grandsons are, there’s a lot of truth in those words.

When the other two boys arrived, working on firewood went out the window. In a minute all three were walking up the trunk of a huge red oak that I had the tree-trimmers drop a few months ago.

“You have any rope we can borrow, Grandpa?” asked Bob, always the ringleader when it comes to making a new game.

So instead of cutting firewood I was using my chainsaw to clear brush underneath the rope swing that Bob had decided they should hang from an upright limb of the oak.

At noontime Honey fed us a big lunch, and then the three boys and I went to the fields and worked a couple of hours bringing in a load of pumpkins.

Grandpa was tired and ready for a rest after that, but then The Favorite asked, “Can we go fishing?”

Sooooo, we dug a few miserable worms put the tackle box and cane poles in the truck and went to the pond. Bob had to go mow for General Doc, but Lamppost Head, who gets off the bus at our house, joined us. We fished off the dock for little bluegill for the next hour. About the time were supposed to quit for dinner so Shark’s two boys could get to football practice, they said they wanted to go swimming. Risking Honey’s wrath, we stripped down and jumped in for a quick 10-minute cool-off in the pond.

Childhood may seem to go on forever when you’re in it, but at certain times you find yourself on one of those cusps, tipping over into a new phase of life: a new school, new friends, new responsibilities and increased expectations.

It’s OK to say you’re scared. It’s OK to ask for help. Older heads will tell you to do your best and just hang in there, and things will turn out. They will.

(Fred Miller’s third book of stories, “A Dead Carp on Shadyside Ave.” is $10 and available locally at Calcutta Giant Eagle, Pottery City Antique Mall, Museum of Ceramics, Frank’s Pastries, Davis Bros. pharmacies, Connie’s Kitchen restaurant, and the Old Ft. Steuben gift shop.)