Mothers and Grandmothers

Not long ago Bill/Dad and I had dinner with our friends, Dr./Bishop Brad Davis and his wife, Ruth. While the men talked church stuff, I asked Ruth how their kids were, and especially their new little granddaughter, Grace. Ruth leaned into me and in that intense way that she has, said, "I would crawl across broken glass for that child, Linda. I would rather spend time with her than with friends I have known for decades. How does that happen? How does that bond form so instantly between a grandchild and a grandparent?" I had no answer for her, but I knew what she was talking about.

Parenthood is (by necessity and design) a daily exercise in "good cop/bad cop." Often, parenthood is enjoyed more in theory than in practice. A lot of the gratification is delayed until the future time when you can laugh at the horrible things your kids do. With parenthood, there are small pay-offs along the way, but the really big payday comes when you can breathe that sigh of relief and say to yourself, "My work is done. My child has become a fabulous adult."

Ruth and I decided that what makes being a grandmother different from being a mother is that the daily work, responsibility and anxiety over "doing a good job" all drains away and you are left with just the joy. We can laugh at the naughty things our grandchildren do because we know that we aren't managing the character-development department anymore. We can handle little crisis with a bit more patience because we understand how fast time flies and how little time it will be before they have outgrown this stage and moved on to another.

Being a mother is the hardest job in the world. Being a good mother is the most consequential thing you will ever do. Being the grandmother of nine (soon to be eleven) children who are being raised by good mothers is the most joyous blessing there is.

A couple of Saturdays ago, Bill and I were having lunch at MacDonald's with Aubrey and Spencer. When it was time to go, we realized that Aubrey's retainer was missing. Since she has an unfortunate habit of wrapping it up in a napkin while eating, we assumed it had been tossed out with the trash. As I rummaged through the garbage can, full to the top with half-eaten ice cream cones, ketchup packets and other nasty stuff, I flashed on the numerous times I had done this in the past. But there was a huge difference! This time, I felt calm. I wasn't glowering at anyone or making wild threats about what they would have to do to pay for a replacement. We had a quiet prayer, found the retainer (on the floor under the table) and walked out of MacDonald's in good spirits.

I guess the moral of the story is that I have grown up, along with my kids. And the other point of the story is that ALL kids do stuff that makes you crazy. All kids will do their own version of dropping your keys inside a hole in the wall, cutting school and taking the bus to the beach, bouncing a golf ball off a glass table to see what will happen, self-righteous tattling, or losing their retainer in a crowded movie theater. Cherish the good times and let them fuel the times when you just have to roll with the punches. It gets better and it's so worth it!

Happy Mother's Day to Heather, Liza, Emily and Sarah. Thank you for making me a grandmother.