I remember my grandmother’s expression from time to time as we sat chatting. A corner of her mouth slightly turned upward as she looked straight ahead, in thought. Her expression said, “I wonder what it would be like to reach that younger mind that knows it all yet knows nothing at all. Nonetheless, I still love her.”
I remember my mother’s stiff upper lip, lips pursed, staring upward, spurned. Her expression said she was angry and felt snubbed by her oldest daughter’s disdain for her wisdom. “As much as it hurts, I still love her.”
I remember my dad’s slight chuckle as he glanced down shaking his head. A little smile let me know that, even though he knew I didn’t know what I was talking about, he still loved me.
And now, I feel my grandmother’s expression, corner of my mouth turned upward as I hear my own children and grandchildren at times.
I feel my mother’s expression. Trying to not feel spurned, I still stare upward sometimes, stiff upper lip.
I feel my dad’s insight. Shaking my head, I try to smile, maybe even chuckle, because I want them to know I still love them.[Top]
Dear Julie Andrews,
Here are a few of my favorite things:
A hot cup of green tea on a cold afternoon
And a hot cup of chamomile to
Soothe a queasy tummy just before bed –
Both with a spoonful of honey
Instead of spoonful of sugar,
Thank you, Mary Poppins.
New spring sunlit warmth
Penetrating chilly gusts from winter
Demanding we not forget her;
And autumn’s crisp cool breezes
Interrupting the hot summer sun
Who begs us to remember him.
Citrusy scents wafting throughout my kitchen
As just-picked oranges and lemons are crushed
To delight our taste buds and immune systems;
Newborn babies fresh with life so pristine we had forgotten;
Snug blankets and throws all over the house so cozy,
Even my kitty and pup nestle in them.
Memories of my children growing up –
Daughter in her blue velvet and white eyelet princess dress;
Then her Madonna phase with sunglasses, hair bow,
Dancing and singing transforming her before my eyes;
Son’s giant white curls dashing around the yard, so fast,
Then his handsome stature blurred the moments in between.
Remembering my dad’s sweetness seeping out
Through dementia that only thought it could destroy;
Grandpa’s gritty warnings of bears as
We set out for the river with cousins and uncles;
And the river, oh, the river, that soothed me,
I still float, weightless, in the river’s arms today, forever.
Keith and I are celebrating nine years together next month. Right after we met, Keith told me he’s just a simple man.
I learned in time what he meant by “simple.” He’s down-to-earth, easy to get along with and can get by minimally in the way of materialism, food, etc. Just let him have a beer on the weekend and go fishing from time to time, and he’s a happy camper. He’ll eat anything I make – good or bad – and he won’t hear me criticize myself on the occasion a meal doesn’t turn out as planned.
He’s blue collar, a truck driver, and I’ve worked in administrative roles my whole life. I’ve learned, though, that his street wisdom trumps my brainy logic any day of the week. Even though Keith is a quiet man, he’s also a verbal lover. Shakespeare said, “Men of few words are the best men,” but the words Keith does utter are showering me with adoration. Keith is not only warm hearted, he is physically warm. Keith’s touch brings a warmth and calming that feels healing. He also loves his hummingbird feeders and rejoices at the first sight of one.
We love our weekends together because we grill our dinners outdoors. We put everything on the grill; squash, potatoes, steaks, chicken, tri-tip, stuffed pork chops and he’s delighted when his creations melt in our mouths. He makes grilling his own personal party, playing his blues and swaying to the crooning. One of his favorites, Stevie Ray Vaughan, was playing at this writing, “Tin Pan Alley.” Neighbors at the few places we’ve lived since being married comment on his good music, hollering for him to turn it up as they turn theirs down.
His love for music includes Leonard Skynard who sings a song perfectly describing Keith – appropriately titled, “Simple Man.” Keith was very close to his mom and reminisces about their talks over coffee at her dining room table. I didn’t meet her, but I’ve heard from others at the church we used to attend in common that she was a sweet and kind-hearted woman. The apple doesn’t fall from the tree. Lyrics begin,
Mama told me when I was young
“Come sit beside me, my only son
And listen closely to what I say
And if you do this it’ll help you some sunny day”
Having a strong background in faith was one reason Keith “winked” at me on Match.com leading to our meeting.
“Oh, take your time, don’t live too fast
Troubles will come and they will pass
You’ll find a woman and you’ll find love
And don’t forget, son, there is someone up above”
If we’re trying to decide between more than one brand when shopping for something, anything from mayonnaise to furniture, he’ll invariably choose the least expensive. He takes cookies with him on his road trips as a trucker. If I’m shopping, he instructs the Chips Ahoy must be the original. “Not the chewy ones?” I ask. “No, the original in the blue package.” I shake my head as I see the different varieties – the fudge-filled ones or those with Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in them. “Who would want the plain, hard ones?” My simple man.
“Forget your lust for the rich man’s gold
All that you need is in your soul
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try
All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied”
Something that intrigues me about Keith is when he’s angry, he doesn’t lash out or react in anger. He goes outside for a while and dwells upon things. I know because of the changed demeanor when he comes back inside. If he was angry with me, he’ll tell me he loves me. I finally realized that, after reflecting on the matter for a while, he concludes to himself what’s important.
“Boy, don’t you worry, you’ll find yourself
Follow your heart and nothing else
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try
All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied”
In our nine years together, we’ve had some trying times; illnesses, unemployment and the usual unexpected curve balls that life periodically throws. “Everything’s gonna be OK,” he comforts me once again.
“And be a simple kind of man
Oh, be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh, won’t you do this for me, son, if you can”
Oh yes, I will
The meaning of life is just to be alive. It is so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves. ~ Alan Watts[Top]
Tarah was born to two loving parents and a brother five years older named Melvin. Tarah was a beautiful baby and little girl. In time, though, her parents noticed some behavior problems. Unlike her well-behaved brother, Tarah was more rambunctious, moody and sometimes destructive. Her parents bought her a bedroom set painted white with a vinyl-cushioned headboard on the bed. One night, Tarah got ahold of an ink pen and poked holes all over the vinyl headboard. Her parents were flustered. Gradually, Tarah became more of a disappointment to her mom who confided that she wished she had stopped at Melvin.
In early grade school, Tarah’s teachers administered routine State exams and discovered that she was gifted. She was considered a “Mentally Gifted Minor” (MGM) and her parents were told that her “gifting” required that certain care be given her to prevent a sense of isolation and feeling misunderstood. Later, when Tarah was a young teen, her mother found several empty bottles of alcohol under her bed. Tarah was an alcoholic and her mom confessed regret at not heeding the teachers’ instruction that Tarah be given the proper nurturance needed as a youngster. The family struggled through turbulent times to help her. She grew, however, into a beautiful woman, married and had two beautiful daughters, fighting alcoholism the entire time. It finally triumphed, and she died at an early age due to an alcohol-induced accident.
Adele was the first born with a brother to follow two years later. She, too, exhibited mood and behavioral problems throughout her life. She was also bright and beautiful. Even though Adele was the “apple of her grandparents’ eyes,” she was strong-willed, independent from an early age and mouthy to her parents. In middle school, Adele refused to go to school. She couldn’t explain her reasons, but her mom suspected she was being bullied for being so tall.
Adele’s grandmother was living with the family. Out of deep concern and love for Adele, her mother and grandmother began affirming her, showering her with love and encouragement. They explained how her beauty and height brought her much attention, sometimes unwanted and unkind. They let her know that people do these things that have nothing to do with her but are from their own internal insecurities. It wasn’t long before Adele decided she would go back to school. Once she did, she rose in popularity and grew into a well-adjusted, healthy woman with a beautiful family of her own.
Stephanie S. Tolan says in her article, “The first act of honoring the self is the assertion of consciousness: the choice to think, to be aware, to send the searchlight of consciousness outward toward the world and inward toward our own being. To default on this effort is to default on the self at the most basic level.” As parents, it’s our job to assist our children with this very thing. Otherwise, we default on them at their most basic level.[Top]
Watching Angie, my nine-year-old granddaughter, walk by the car into the pizza parlor was like watching a different person when my son and his family made a surprise visit last weekend. All three of the so-called “little” grandkids that we hadn’t seen since Christmas showed up taller with matured, leaner faces than when we last saw them. I wasn’t ready for them to give up their baby fat.
After their arrival, we surprised his oldest daughter, Ilena, at the pizza parlor where she worked. This was my first time seeing my oldest grandchild at work, and I was caught off guard at the difference from always having seen her playing as a kid or lounging in my living room at family get togethers. She also has a boyfriend who’s going into the service next month. And, getting ready to graduate high school. This is all too much for a grandma for the first time just a short 18 years ago.
After ordering my pizza, I went to join the others at the table and caught my six-year old grandson’s eye. The look on Evan’s face as I walked up to him tried to hide his delight anticipating the squeeze and kisses he knew I’d give him. My heart was full, nearly bursting, as I hugged his neck and loved on him. I’m tickled that Evan is still young enough to be obsessed with Legos and Zoobs, but I push back a sentimental apprehension about my pre-teen grandgirl. Let’s just say I’m glad that, with Angie’s striking beauty, she has a somewhat overprotective dad.
My daughter’s daughter, Evie, my 13-year-old granddaughter, brought the toddler she was babysitting. The last I remember, I was babysitting her – and still should be as far as I’m concerned. They ran into friends at the pizza parlor who had a baby that Evie asked to hold. Next, Allie, my three-year-old and youngest grandchild, arrived to join the group of littles. So, I snapped a picture of Evie with all the kids around her, and appropriately titled it, “All the babies love Evie.” I do too.
My oldest grandson, Adam, wasn’t there because he was with his first girlfriend. They forgot to ask grandma for approval. My sentiments – we need the whole clan together. He came to dinner the following day, though, so I got my Adam love. The only person taller than grandson who is 15, soon to be 16, is his uncle who is 6 ft 3 in. Adam will be driving independently in three months – I find this unfair, it’s my job to taxi him around.
My son brought their puppy, Zeke, along. Back at the house, three-year-old Allie was hugging Zeke, rolling him around, and petting him often. He was eating up every second of it – these young ones were in sync. Allie used to be afraid of dogs, including Jessie, my dog. So, this was quite a change as she couldn’t leave Jessie alone either. Jessie wasn’t as patient as Zeke and none too happy that Allie kept petting, hugging and kissing her. But Jessie hid in the bedroom for much of their visit, so it worked out fine.
Around the dinner table, moms shared stories about the heartache of seeing their kids grow up. Theresa, at discovering not too long ago that Evan stands up to potty like a big boy now, started bawling. Arya remembered when she dropped Adam off on his first day of high school. Filled with a host of emotions, she sat down to breakfast with her friends and sobbed realizing the grief she was experiencing from the growing up of her baby boy.
Excuse me ladies. How do you think this grandma, not to mention also a mom, feels? How did it go by so fast? Who do I see about no one asking Grandma?
I don’t remember who said this, but there really are places in the heart you don’t even know exist until you love a child. ~ Anne Lamott[Top]