The shade slaps against the window, hurriedly dropped from little fingers. “She’s here!”
Scrambling noises from inside, locks rattled, little squeals. The door flings open.
“GRANDMA!!” Pushing past each other, needing to be first, my arms open wide enough for both. Kissing warm heads and cheeks, I fear my heart will burst.
Oh, it is great to be loved like this.
A chance to get it right this time.
Amongst the blessing of being GRANDMA! to my most stalwart fans, is the gift of being an old broad who has learned a thing or two. There is only your arrival at certain passages of life, that will gift you with the knowledge necessary to fall into the wise old owl category.
The coolest part isn’t my exceptional wisdom [it’s there, baby], although I will admit that having many answers for many questions does lift my wrinkled little ego a bit–No, no–the best part is, even if I don’t know the right answer–if I speak with an air of confidence–everyone buys it!
Life as a grandma is grand, ma. Should you be blessed enough to have your own child raising their own children, and if said children are being treated as you would have them treated–then you can write your own script.
And I have. Our girls are ever welcome at our home. Even if they weren’t so low maintenance, we would adore spending time with them, as they seem to like us so much. However, we really hit the jackpot with our granddaughters. Take some Top Ramen, Cheetos, and an episode of iCarly, and you have a recipe for a grand afternoon. Pull out the old guitar [which none of us can play], bang out a semblance of a tune, and let the custom constructed songs fly–and it’s even better.
We have beds here for them. And a myriad of memories starting in the delivery room.
At some of the darkest points of our married life–the very mention of their names released the captive light–our hearts to pump once again.
Now this may all seem schmaltzy to you non-grandparent types–maybe you aren’t there yet. . . Or never will be. . . Or your grandkids live at your house, or are little knuckleheads. Not to worry–we’re all just walking our own path.
Kathleen is the proud Grandma of Coco and Soleil and my mom! She will be writing a monthly column here, Homegrown Grandma.