I am "G-ma". For now, anyway. Steve (my son) and Sandy call me both "G-ma" and "Jamma" rather than "Grandma". I like that! Most of all, I love with a passion the fact that I am a grandmother. I never especially wanted to be one - didn't want to feel 'old', even though the years don't lie. But, darn it! I LOVE being a grandmother. What changed me? Jace. My grandson changed me, of course.
My grandmother friends have all told me many times that there is nothing like it. They have all been - and are - blissfully happy in the role. There was no way to relate to that happiness, however. Sure, it's great. You have a grandchild. He/she is adorable. That's as deep as it went. I couldn't enter that realm until it really happened to me.
Now I am a member of the club. Now I feel what it is they were talking about. I can totally relate. It is a heavenly gift. It is unvarnished love - on both sides, the giving and the receiving. It is unexplainable. It is a wonderful thing.
I'm not trying to be secretive. It's just impossible to explain how I have been changed by this little person who has entered my life. It's very different from being a parent, and not because 'you can spoil them and send them home'. That's not it at all. Maybe it's part nostalgia. I am so much back in the space I was in when I was a new mother...and yet it is different.
I love being G-ma.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Be Kind
Being kind is sort of who I always try to be. I'm not always successful. Certain people always bring out the worst in me, and give me reason to keep trying to be better - but mostly, kindness is basic to me. Recently I've read a quote (unattributed) about being kind to others because you never know what kind of burden they're carrying. Today I read the blog page of someone I care a lot about. I only knew hints of the problems she had faced in her young life, and still don't know everything. The courage and love she has shown and the good judgment, kindness and common sense she demonstrates on a daily basis are the opposite of what has been given her on so many occasions.
I've had my share of sorrows, some so deep I didn't know if I could get through them, but I have had a relatively easy time, and I count my blessings daily. I've never faced the issues she has had to face, which include dreadful childhood trauma. Congratulations to her and to all the survivors of inhumane and/or criminally ignorant behavior. God bless all who have suffered, and best wishes that they too will survive with happy and grateful hearts. It's not easy to do, but this person shows me that it can be done.
Be kind. Others carry burdens we can't imagine. Our kindness may be the thing that helps them get through another day.
I've had my share of sorrows, some so deep I didn't know if I could get through them, but I have had a relatively easy time, and I count my blessings daily. I've never faced the issues she has had to face, which include dreadful childhood trauma. Congratulations to her and to all the survivors of inhumane and/or criminally ignorant behavior. God bless all who have suffered, and best wishes that they too will survive with happy and grateful hearts. It's not easy to do, but this person shows me that it can be done.
Be kind. Others carry burdens we can't imagine. Our kindness may be the thing that helps them get through another day.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
That DNA
On the second Bob Newhart show - the one with Larry, Darryl and Darryl - Larry admired his two brothers and said, "There's somethin so great about that DNA". I loved that line and thought of it today when I was holding my very sleepy grandson.
He is his daddy's son. No doubt about it. The DNA is strong. He looks like him - and like many in my family for various reasons. He has Mike's and Roger's cowlicks in the front of his hair. I can see Mike sometimes, and Roger at other times. He has his Mommy's eyes and mouth...except his eyes are blue and hers are dark brown like mine. He looks a lot like her. He has his grandfather's blue, blue eyes. He has his Daddy's eyebrows...and mine...and Chris's. Having mine, he has my mother's too. That DNA runs strong. He is a very good mix of his Mommy and Daddy, with a whole lot of his daddy's family DNA thrown in for fun. He is named for his Mommy's uncle and for his own uncle - his daddy's brother Chris. Most people who know the family immediately say, "Oh! He looks like Chris!" And he does. He is Jace the Face, Jace Christopher, and he is a totally beautiful baby boy.
But what made me think of the DNA today and Larry's proclamation about the greatness of it was his daddy (my son.) When Jace is sleepy he thrusts his head back and forth into my shoulders when I'm trying to ease him into sleep. Back and forth, head butting as he turns his head from side to side. It is not a timid baby move. It is a thrust. Forceful. It is exactly what his daddy used to do. It takes me back 30+ years to when I held his daddy in my arms trying to get him to sleep. Exactly. 100% the same. It could be my firstborn I am holding instead of my firstborn grandson. A human time machine. My heart can surely hold no more joy.
Larry had it right. There's somethin great about that DNA.
(The photo is of Jace after his first feeding of cereal with a spoon and is just shy of his three month birthday.)
He is his daddy's son. No doubt about it. The DNA is strong. He looks like him - and like many in my family for various reasons. He has Mike's and Roger's cowlicks in the front of his hair. I can see Mike sometimes, and Roger at other times. He has his Mommy's eyes and mouth...except his eyes are blue and hers are dark brown like mine. He looks a lot like her. He has his grandfather's blue, blue eyes. He has his Daddy's eyebrows...and mine...and Chris's. Having mine, he has my mother's too. That DNA runs strong. He is a very good mix of his Mommy and Daddy, with a whole lot of his daddy's family DNA thrown in for fun. He is named for his Mommy's uncle and for his own uncle - his daddy's brother Chris. Most people who know the family immediately say, "Oh! He looks like Chris!" And he does. He is Jace the Face, Jace Christopher, and he is a totally beautiful baby boy.
But what made me think of the DNA today and Larry's proclamation about the greatness of it was his daddy (my son.) When Jace is sleepy he thrusts his head back and forth into my shoulders when I'm trying to ease him into sleep. Back and forth, head butting as he turns his head from side to side. It is not a timid baby move. It is a thrust. Forceful. It is exactly what his daddy used to do. It takes me back 30+ years to when I held his daddy in my arms trying to get him to sleep. Exactly. 100% the same. It could be my firstborn I am holding instead of my firstborn grandson. A human time machine. My heart can surely hold no more joy.
Larry had it right. There's somethin great about that DNA.
(The photo is of Jace after his first feeding of cereal with a spoon and is just shy of his three month birthday.)
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Something I Remembered Today
I remember hot, sunny summer days handing clothespins to my pretty, dark-haired Mommy. I loved being with her and helping her, and I wanted to be just like her...very sweet, kind to everyone and very pretty.
When I was older, I helped Mama hang the laundry in the summer. (She did it alone when I was in school.) And finally, it became my summertime chore. There must have been three - or maybe four - wires on the backyard clothesline because I still remember that modesty required that our girl underwear be hung out-of-sight on the inner line. Sheets and towels, shirts and pants and socks on the outer wires.
And then we got an automatic clothes dryer, which helped with all the diapers. I was the second of seven kids, and it seemed like Mom was always about to have a baby or had just had one. I remember her teaching me how to change diapers too. We had cloth diapers with big safety pins back then. I stuck my little fingers many times while changing a squirmy younger sibling's diapers. You always had to keep your own fingers between the pin, the diaper and the baby's tender skin. I wonder if Mom noticed the many times there were tiny little drops of my blood to be washed off the sides of the diapers. The pins went through the diapers a little easier if you ran the point of the pin through your hair before trying to insert them into the cloth. Just enough of the natural oil from your hair would transfer to the pin. Funny, the things you remember on a hot summer day.
I remember loving sharing that time on those hot summer days in the backyard with my mother. We didn't have many 'alone times', and I treasured them.
When I was older, I helped Mama hang the laundry in the summer. (She did it alone when I was in school.) And finally, it became my summertime chore. There must have been three - or maybe four - wires on the backyard clothesline because I still remember that modesty required that our girl underwear be hung out-of-sight on the inner line. Sheets and towels, shirts and pants and socks on the outer wires.
And then we got an automatic clothes dryer, which helped with all the diapers. I was the second of seven kids, and it seemed like Mom was always about to have a baby or had just had one. I remember her teaching me how to change diapers too. We had cloth diapers with big safety pins back then. I stuck my little fingers many times while changing a squirmy younger sibling's diapers. You always had to keep your own fingers between the pin, the diaper and the baby's tender skin. I wonder if Mom noticed the many times there were tiny little drops of my blood to be washed off the sides of the diapers. The pins went through the diapers a little easier if you ran the point of the pin through your hair before trying to insert them into the cloth. Just enough of the natural oil from your hair would transfer to the pin. Funny, the things you remember on a hot summer day.
I remember loving sharing that time on those hot summer days in the backyard with my mother. We didn't have many 'alone times', and I treasured them.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Better and Better
I said it. I said, "I love my life." I said it not knowing that the affirmation would make the statement even more true. I had no idea of the joy that was waiting around the corner. That joy is my new grandson Jace Christopher. Already the light of my already loved life, this event has taken my life giant strides towards being even better! His mother and father, Sandy and Steve, are happy - how could they not be? That makes me very happy. I thank God for my miracles and am grateful every day for the wonders in my humble life. I wish on stars, I blow out birthday candles with fervent wishes going up to the skies. I wish on eyelashes, I see four leaf clovers as answers to my prayers. I pray. And every prayer, every wish has been the same for several years. With the birth of Jace Christopher I have learned that the daily and nightly and ever-present prayer has been answered. All those wishes have come true.
Will I stop wishing? Will I stop praying? Never. A dear old friend taught me many years ago the phrase: have an attitude of gratitude. I do. I learned that as a child, with the song lyrics, "I count my blessings instead of sheep...and I fall asleep, counting my blessings." I will always wish for the same things...not material goods, but heart-things. I will always pray my thanks. I will always count my blessings, of which there are many - and one more this month, that shines above all the others.
I am happy.
(Maybe that's why I keep those tickets...eternally optimistic.)
Will I stop wishing? Will I stop praying? Never. A dear old friend taught me many years ago the phrase: have an attitude of gratitude. I do. I learned that as a child, with the song lyrics, "I count my blessings instead of sheep...and I fall asleep, counting my blessings." I will always wish for the same things...not material goods, but heart-things. I will always pray my thanks. I will always count my blessings, of which there are many - and one more this month, that shines above all the others.
I am happy.
(Maybe that's why I keep those tickets...eternally optimistic.)
Thursday, January 28, 2010
I Love My Life
If I ever start grousing about anything, remind me of this, please. Today as I sat to write it crossed my mind that -
I love my life. Now that I’ve stated that fact, I’m trying to enumerate the reasons why, but it doesn’t bear too much introspection. I have my share of heartbreaks, some of them immense, but my psyche doesn’t let me dwell there. I am a positive person, despite the heartbreaks, and despite the occasional cynicism that lurks deep inside. My life doesn’t contain many great luxuries, and I work every day. I don’t have time to do many of the things I long to do more of…travel, paint, create, visit with friends. But that’s a good thing because that leaves me some attainable aspirations.
My life is rich and full. I have good friends, family and a job I love. I learn new things on a daily basis, which keeps life exciting. I have an avocation that is fulfilling and challenging at the same time. I have enough money that I don’t have to worry about the necessities of life or my ability to pay my way. I learned long ago to count my blessings, and I do.
My paternal grandmother defied the commonly held stereotypes of her day. Most of what she did probably just came naturally to her…she just had to do it, so she did. I'll save Gram’s story for another day. You'll like it. I like to think that I have a lot of her in me. She accomplished much, withstood much hardship, succeeded in a man’s world and maintained a positive attitude. She was a role model. All of this studying ‘why’ is wearisome. ‘Why not?’ is a better question. I love my life.
I love my life. Now that I’ve stated that fact, I’m trying to enumerate the reasons why, but it doesn’t bear too much introspection. I have my share of heartbreaks, some of them immense, but my psyche doesn’t let me dwell there. I am a positive person, despite the heartbreaks, and despite the occasional cynicism that lurks deep inside. My life doesn’t contain many great luxuries, and I work every day. I don’t have time to do many of the things I long to do more of…travel, paint, create, visit with friends. But that’s a good thing because that leaves me some attainable aspirations.
My life is rich and full. I have good friends, family and a job I love. I learn new things on a daily basis, which keeps life exciting. I have an avocation that is fulfilling and challenging at the same time. I have enough money that I don’t have to worry about the necessities of life or my ability to pay my way. I learned long ago to count my blessings, and I do.
My paternal grandmother defied the commonly held stereotypes of her day. Most of what she did probably just came naturally to her…she just had to do it, so she did. I'll save Gram’s story for another day. You'll like it. I like to think that I have a lot of her in me. She accomplished much, withstood much hardship, succeeded in a man’s world and maintained a positive attitude. She was a role model. All of this studying ‘why’ is wearisome. ‘Why not?’ is a better question. I love my life.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
observations on the ephemera of life
Abandoned in a jacket pocket, in the bottom of a purse, in a desk drawer - a ticket boldly demanding: KEEP THIS TICKET. The event from which this ticket came is long forgotten, and the ticket does not enlighten. Keep this ticket. Oh, the quandary. To KEEP THIS TICKET or to toss it. What if it is a winning ticket? I wonder what I won? Has the correct ticket been drawn? Will my phone ring and a stranger tell me how lucky I am? Will I need this ticket to claim my prize? Has it expired? Was it my ticket to enter a venue? Did I? Did I enjoy it? Do I want a refund? I can't claim a refund without this ticket, can I? I'd better keep this ticket.
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