The Gramma Thing

Zachary has always been, shall we say, expressive. 

And I love it. 

Since we lived together in the same house for the first three years of his life, I can say with confidence that even as a baby he found his way all across the emotive scale, back and forth to either end, often in a matter of seconds, there and back again, and again.   What you get from Zachary is exactly what he's feeling at any given moment.  "Plain, unvarnished truth," as my Dad used to say.

Last week he and I ended up spending a lot of time together.  On Tuesday he had an appointment during work hours, and I was more than happy to make myself available.  And then, quite unrelated, that evening he started running a fever that got him dropped off to my house for the day on Wednesday.  Normally, Wednesday nights are a standing order for either Ken or I to be at their house to put younger folks to bed when Mom and Dad are out.  So by Wednesday afternoon, when he was being picked up, I said, "I'm going to see you again in just a few hours.  You're going to say, 'Gramma, I'm sick of you!'"

Without any hesitation and with a sincerely puzzled look on his face, Zachary asked, "Why would I ever say that?"

Something's working.

My relational world has shifted significantly lately, which is why I am musing on these various circles of my life, at this particular stage of my life.  And in my musings, I conclude that this Gramma thing is of HUGE importance to me.

From the moment I knew my daughter was expecting our first grandchild, I had dreams.  Dreams about what kind of Gramma I would like to be, and what kind of connection I might be able to have with my grandchildren.  Now, twelve years and four grandkids later I am finding a great and surprising joy in how those dreams have worked out. 

These kids!  They teach me so much about everything; about priorities and surrender and abandoned joy and unconditional love.  They are truly glad when I show up, and who doesn't need that?  They feel free to tell me ever so politely, "Gramma I would just like to point out that we haven't been to the Dollar Store in quite some time" (Harvest).  And apparently, they can't imagine ever getting sick of me.  What a gift to my always-struggling self esteem.


With no little gratitude toward my children and their spouses, who are key in all of this, I can say with wonder and delight, I think we're doing this well, the kids and I, this Gramma thing. 

I am rich beyond my imagination.

And then.

God gave me more.

Because there are 26 more grandchildren half way around the world.  And somehow for some reason still incredulous to me, they have adopted me.  And I get to be Gramma to them too.  And this has been not a dream but a surprise.  Not something I saw coming at all, really.  But a gift I fully embrace and receive with great joy.  These kids teach me so much about everything; about perspectives and sacrifice and impossible joy and reckless love.  They too, to my astonishment, seem genuinely glad when I show up, and would never in a million years dream of asking to go to the Dollar Store (so NOT gringjai!), but vibrate with delight if we just head down to the 7/11 for ice cream.

I am rich beyond my wildest Gramma dreams.

To do this together with Grandad - that's just over the top.




These are good, good days.  Cups-running-over kinds of days.  Made-it-through-some-storms-and-are-better-for-it kinds of days.  Doing-this-together-no-matter-what kinds of days.  Days of loving deeply and forging family for a new generation.

This Gramma thing.
I think it's one of my life's best rewards.