
As I gathered the container of ice cream and walked to their
door I was reminded of how almost every summer day my Grandma would show up at
our house with a watermelon in her arms for us to gather around the picnic
table in the backyard and eat. As a little kid I wondered why this was so
important to her, and I, like Felix preferred ice cream.
Looking back on it now I see those watermelons as a peace
offering of sorts- a physical gift that bought her a precious commodity, our
time. Yesterday I bought ice cream for that same reason.
For a grandparent, even a busy grandparent, there is a
realization that time slips past you faster than you ever thought possible. You
see,
in my mind I am just as much that six-year-old girl who complained and
said, “Watermelon again?” as I am the Mimi delighting over watching a baby
learn to feed himself ice cream. My soon to be thirty-year-old son sitting on
the couch watching the spoon hit the baby’s mouth upside down serves as an
urgent reminder that time spins by too fast, and every moment is meant to be
treasured.
My thinking about myself as the grandma- not the parent or
the child also reminded me of how time spent with grandchildren depends on so
many things. There are distance factors, other obligation factors, and procrastination
factors that all work against getting to really know these special little
people. Before long the little people turn into teens with worlds and
obligations of their own that take them away.
I wish as a young adult with all my stretched too thin
scheduling that I had spent more time with my aging grandmothers. There is
something special about the way a grandparent sees you- how they think the
world of you- make you feel special. I’d love to have one more conversation
with each of mine.
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