LESSONS FROM THE HEART

As grandmas go I'm pretty quiet about my grandkids.   It's not that I don't adore them; I do.  It's not that I don't absolutely know with all my heart that they are the most intelligent, advanced, kind-hearted, cutest children on the face of the earth; of course they are.  It's definitely not that I don't have about a million photos of them on my i-Phone ever at the ready to show; I do.

It's just that I'm aware that all other grandparents feel exactly the same and it soon becomes an exercise in one-upping or grandkid tales ad-nauseum.  The reality is, almost ALL kids are cute and smart and (barring significant developmental delays)  get teeth, learn to walk, say some words, eat with a spoon, go to school, get an A, ride a bike, make a friend, go on a date, find a job, etc etc. until they are all grown up and start to corner people at parties with stories and photos of their own grandkids.  Me and mine are not that special, except in the way that everyone is special and everyone deserves to be loved and cherished as much as grandkids are.

I see a lot of my granddaughters.  We live close by and Hub and I care for our 18 mo old "Jewel" two days a week.  So we see our almost seven year old "Angel" on those days too during drop off and pick up time. We host a family dinner about once a week and we generally take the girls overnight once a month so their parents get a break to reconnect on "date night".

Two separate weeks this summer we had "Angel" several hours a day with us when she was pulled from her full-time daycare camp to attend other activities -- a theater camp and an art camp -- that we encouraged as "enrichment activities" supporting and transporting her there and back.  We had her before and after these morning "camps" and got to do lots of fun and hopefully memorable things together -- visits to the library, parks, shopping, restaurants, sprinkler play, crafts, gardening, concerts, a steady stream of meals and snacks and smoothies and treats, etc etc.

One afternoon last week Angel and I walked to the park while Hub stayed home with Jewel.  Hub and I felt the girls needed a bit of time apart and we needed a rest from the full onslaught of chaos that sometimes ensues when the two of them want our undivided attentions and have needs that sometimes mesh and sometimes diverge, given their age differences.

I was tired.  I wanted to sit on a bench.  Angel wanted me to play hide and seek or tag with her.  I declined, instead encouraging her to show me how good she was on the monkey bars or balancing on the tippy bridge; anything but me running around like a six year old in the wood chips.  She was disappointed.  I tried to point out that I do lots of fun things with her, but I'm just not a fan of tag and hide and seek.  Her silence hit a nerve and I got defensive, "I do LOTS of fun things....don't I?"  She was quiet, and finally said, "Well, you play Go Fish."  That was it.  That was all she could come up with in the moment.

I wanted to laugh, but instead I could feel tears welling in my eyes.  It was reminiscent of how hard I worked at parenting her daddy and uncle, most of it going unrecognized and unacknowledged.  Such is the plight of adults in children's lives.  Angel meant absolutely no offense; she just wanted to play tag and there were no other kids around so Grandma was the obvious playmate choice.  She was easily persuaded to let me "spot" her on the high monkey bars, cheering her on, and steadying her on the dismount.  We high-fived her Olympic caliber performance.  In the end we had fun.  But it gave me pause.

So often what we offer our kids and grandkids can only be done through a generosity of heart; a gift that may or may not be appreciated in the moment, or in a lifetime.  I wish my own mother was here now for me to thank for all the things I took for granted, didn't appreciate, or ignored; the things that I know now, in my own experience, were true heart gifts that netted her little reward.

The day after the playground interaction Angel retired to the "Girls Room" -- a spare bedroom we've turned into a play space for them -- to color.  I was puttering around in the kitchen when she came out with this envelope for me, containing this drawing.  Tears welled again.  With love, gratitude, appreciation, and recognition of the overwhelming sweetness of the moment.  This gift was as quickly offered and forgotten by Angel as the comment of the previous day when it was hard for her to come up with anything fun I do with her.

Children live in the moment, which may be the best lesson they can teach us.  Hold not tightly to a perceived slight; always appreciate thanks when it comes.  Instead of tales of accomplishment, success, or milestones achieved by most every kid, these are the things to cherish, the lessons to learn.  They are quieter and don't often lend themselves to a photo stream.   It's hard to capture the essence of human spirit -- its challenges and joys -- in a snapshot.  But if you hang around kids long enough, you'll learn the lesson anyway.  Pass it on.

At least, that's the view from here...©