Grandma

Grandmas go by so many different names—Gigi, Mimi, Grams, MaMaw, or BB.  My mom, she is Grandma, just like her mother was to us. There’s no denying that having children gives you a whole new appreciation for your own parents.  You understand their worries.  Their sacrifices.  Their sleep deprivation.  Their late nights and early mornings on Christmas (right?!)…. The list could go on forever.

 

But lately, what I’ve appreciated the most, is her ability to pause time on my most frantic days.  She holds the babies and marvels at their new words, or their newfound steadiness in walking.  She notices when their hair has grown fast.  She notices when they have finally figured out the “more” baby sign.   And in that noticing, she reminds me that my babies will not be babies for very long, and that they are changing every day.  She doesn’t focus on the laundry that isn’t folded, the dishes that need to be done; in fact, she waves those concerns away as she sits and laughs and holds the babies.  She focuses on one thing—baby joy.  And that sparks such a joy in me.  I notice more.  I pause.  I don’t hurry through the day’s tasks but instead, I stop.  I notice.  I appreciate. I take the time to enjoy it all.   If only for a few minutes, I pause to breathe in the babies’ clean hair.  I notice their sturdy little feet, which are now so much bigger.

So in addition to all the normal things I appreciate about my Mom, I appreciate her for being Grandma.  For noticing.  For focusing on what matters, and for helping me to do the same.

We love you, Grandma.