Looking out my window watching the big fat fluffy snowflakes fall to the ground. Joe is snug in bed cause he had to work all night and Quincy is curled up in his usual spot. It’s quiet and warm and my heart is bursting to overflow with the joy of just being alive today. Its beautiful out my window here in my cozy little home and I am feeling very blessed.
Nothing like finding out you are going to be a grandma to bring a burst of purpose into your life. I have envied my friends with grandkids knowing that someday I would join the ranks of that “awe and wonder” of having grandkids of my own to talk about and show pictures of. I am so excited about it. And when it comes to being a great grandma, I have a mentor in my late mother who was grandma extraordinare to my kids.
I wonder what my new grandbaby will call me. Will I be Grandma, or grammy, or meme or mema? Maybe Elan which is what my nieces and nephews called me, an attempt at LeeAnn but scrambled up and a name I was delighted to find out eacutally means Joy or a zeal for life...which describes my attitude to a t.
I remember how much they looked forward to going to Mema’s house when they were little. For once they got there, it was like entering a different dimension. One where everything they asked for (within reason) was granted to them, where they got to have their favorite treats and got to sleep in grandma’s bed and hear stories until they fell asleep. One where jumping on the bed was expected and done to the cranked up tune of Rocky Top on the cd player. One where donuts magically appeared when they woke up in the morning, my dad (a grandpa extraordinare) having gotten up and gone out early to get the kind they liked the best and always the chocolate milk to go along with the donuts. Knowing Chris liked bacon, my mom would cook a whole pound just for him.
But the best part was her imagination and her childlike spirit which led them to many an adventure. One of her rooms had folding doors that when shut had bars on the top part. They would pretend it was a jail. One of their favorite games to play with her was Airplane. The stairs were the seats and she would tape the seat numbers to the step and when they purchased their ticket, they would go an find their seat to get ready for take off. Not before they checked their luggage (she would bring out actual suitcases for them, and her treadmill was the luggage carousel. Once seated for take off, she became the stewardess bringing them their in flight meal, usually peanut butter crackers and candy and dr. pepper served on child size tea set dishes. Upon landing they would get their luggage off the carousel and get in line to buy a ticket to their next destination from mema, who had reverted back to ticket counter sales. They would do this for hours and it never got old, for them or for her. She played with them as if she were a child herself and the love that she put into every minute she spent with them was priceless.
They would play library too. Mom would get all her books and tape envelopes into the back of them with an index card. They boys would go to the library (her den) and choose their books to take to the librarian (my mom). She had a date stamper and would pull the cards out, stamp the card and tell them when the books were due. They would take turns being the librarian because the best part was using the inkpad and stamper. And they would have story hour at the library too. She would read to them as they sat on the floor Indian style, hanging on her every word. Because she didn’t just read in monotone. She made the characters come alive using different voices. I was usually laying on the couch watching all this, taking advantage of a moment of time when I wasn’t having to be Mom.
Once when we went there she had thought up a new game…grocery store…she had found an old cash register somewhere, the kind where when you hit total the bell rang and t he drawer opened. And she had filled her table with boxes and cans of food of all kinds. And each one had a price sticker attached. They would take turns ringing up the purchases and once again the treadmill would serve as a conveyer belt. They would put their purchases on the treadmill and it would move them to the cashier at the end of the machine and they would be rang up, sacked and carried to their “car”.
And when we left Kingfisher after our visits, I was always sad to go because she was sad to see us go. For those couple of days, I was able to rest and restore and she was able to relax and play. And Chris and Andy, and Jenna and Jesse and Jordan were her playmates. It saddens me when I think of what my sister’s kids missed out on because they were only 3 and 2 when she died. Or Jimmy’s son because he lived so far away. I am forever grateful to God for this mother he blessed me with and the grandmother my kids had for way too few years.
And as for me, well I am already anticipating all the things I plan to do with my precious grandbaby when he/she arrives. And looking forward to the 2nd and 3rd and 4th and 5th grandkids if that’s in my future. I’ve already bought one of those books where you record your voice reading to them. I plan to do a lot of babysitting and a lot of driving back and forth to Austin (7 hours is a piece of cake)…..I look forward to petting zoos, and circuses, and movies and fairs. I look forward to dyeing Easter eggs and Santa pictures and hours of reading to my grandchild.
And like my mom, I intend to embrace the new role and allow myself to be silly and fun and creative and create memories that will go on long after I am gone.
A few weeks ago, I was searching for a purpose. I think I may have found it!
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