Me and My Mini-Me
On Wednesday, July 13, 2011 (ten years ago today), a wee little girl came into the world thirteen weeks too soon. My first grandbaby nudged the scale needle to one pound fifteen ounces. She measured an inch taller than a Barbie doll—a mere13inches.
Agonizing suspense filled the months following her birth as she struggled to survive. The fragility and resilience of life amaze me even more now than then.
Today my first grandchild celebrates her birthday ten years later—strong, healthy, and average in size. You’d never know she started so small. She now enjoys the company of three siblings, and another baby should arrive in November—bringing the total number of children in that household to five.
So far, of my four grown children, only the oldest has kids. But that changes this year; her younger sister expects her first in December. Now, soon to be a grandmother of six with ten years of grandparenting under my belt, I reflect on how this decade shaped my perspectives.
Gaining Insight to Unfading Beauty
The news of my daughter expecting provoked me to reflect on my first memories of my grandmothers. As a child, I thought these women looked old (both were only forty-five when I came into the world). I realized for the first time that another person would see me as an older woman. My grandchildren would only know me with smile lines and silver strands running through my mane.
Only one of my grandmother’s lived long enough to see her great-great-grandchild’s entrance into the world. At the age of three, my granddaughter attended my grandmother’s 100th birthday. I remembered my impressions of my great-grandmothers. They looked ancient. But even though my grandma was now great twice—she looked grand to me.
From my perspective, Grandma appeared more joyful, more loving, more delighted in life than she’d ever been. Yes, she had more wrinkles, and her salt and pepper hair now sparkled like fresh snow. Yet, her love for people and life transformed my understanding of old. Time forges a timeless beauty in those who choose to love and live well to the end.
“Do not let your adornment be merely outward—arranging the hair, wearing gold, or putting on fine apparel— rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.” 1 Peter 3:3-4
Which mirror do I spend the most time in, the Bible or the bathroom?
Grasping the Elusiveness of Time
Do you remember turning ten? I remember the wonder of seeing that second digit when I wrote my age. I sensed new liberty—the freedom of being a big kid. I also remember each of my children turning ten.
When my first child turned ten, it felt like a milestone in mothering. When my last child turned ten, it struck me that an era just ended. No longer would babies and preschoolers populate my home (unless the Lord intervened and He did not).
Now my granddaughter joins the double-digit club; I realize decades feel more like days at this point in my life. My promotion from grandma to great-grandma (should the good Lord grant me that privilege) may be as close as a decade away.
When a baby turns one, a year equals one hundred percent of their life. At age ten, twelve months represent ten percent of that life span. When a person reaches sixty (as I have), a year diminishes to less than two percent of your life. Time grows shorter as we grow grand.
In this past decade, both a friend and I had heart attacks. He was four years my junior. Yet, he died. I survived. God determines the number of our days, and no one but God knows how many we will have. Let’s utilize the present well and learn to embrace the time God grants as a gift.
“So, teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” Moses, Psalm 90:12
What’s happening right now, and how can I maximize this very moment?
Taking Nothing For Granted
Before my nest emptied, I took my children’s active presence for granted; after all, we lived together. Often in that busy window of my life, I felt overwhelmed. I just wanted a little me space. Now I have lots. My strong fledglings flew far.
Today they’re scattered from sea to shining sea; one lives close to the Atlantic, another on the Gulf of Mexico, daughter number three in the Pacific Northwest, then Uncle Sam took my one and only son to Gaum. Gathering this far-flung clan takes an act of Providence. Even our best attempts to plan fail at times, like Christmas 2020 when covid prevented our reunion.
My children enjoy visiting with us and each other, and we with them. My daughter and her husband go out of their way to make sure their kids develop a relationship with us. I no longer take their company for granted. It’s a precious, precarious blessing I enjoy.
I’ve lived long enough to know not every family enjoys such relationships. I know casualties of family feuds. I’ve shed tears with women estranged from their offspring, forbidden time with their grandchildren. These women loved God. They loved their families. What happened? Only the Almighty knows.
I’ve seen parents outlive children. We live in a broken world. At my age, I see expectations often result in disappointment. However, flexpectaions free me to enjoy what God grants—even when it’s not what I’d hoped for—like a covid Christmas.
“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
What is my response when life doesn’t go as I planned?
Becuase, it often doesn’t.
Young mamas, savor these busy days. Moments evaporate into memories faster than most women forget labor pains.