“She
didn’t really want to be a grandmother,” he said of his wife.
I
looked at him as he chuckled slightly. We were sitting at coffee hour, munching
away, discussing what our grandchildren call us. Before they could pronounce a
true “gr” sound, I was Damma. I don’t know how the “d” got in there, but at
least three of them called me that. I loved it. They were recognizing who I was
in that one simple, mispronounced word. The transition to Grandma was just as
delightful.
But
I smiled at my friend. “My mom was the same,” I said. “She would have liked her
grandkids to call her Elaine.” With the first few anyhow.
Mom
was in her early forties when she first became a grandmother. I guess vanity
played a role – it does that. It speaks to aging. Hello? We all do it. Can’t be
avoided. So why not embrace all the wonderful things aging brings? Like insight
and wisdom. Like perspective. Like the ability to laugh at ourselves and to
realize how true it is that time heals. Like grandchildren.
I
was 50 when our first grandchild, Elaina, was born. Yup, her name is a derivative
of my mom’s and I think that pleased her. By the time Elaina was born Mom had
scads of grandchildren so I guess some wisdom and the sheer delight of being
around the energetic young swung the balance in their favor. Hooray for that!
We’re
up to six now. They range in age from 3 to 15. Every one is a gift. Every one
has his or her charms and – um – their not so charms. ?? Okay, I couldn’t figure
out a word that wouldn’t incriminate. They can be a trial at times. But that’s
all part of the game. The lovely, life affirming, hilarious and necessary way
we go on. It has only a little to do with aging and in such a good way – if we
let it.
If
any of you are an aficionado of old songs, think of this one, but put whatever
your grandkids call you into the first line. The song? Let Me Call You
Sweetheart.
Let me call
you Grandma,
I’m in love
with you,
Let me hear
you whisper
That you love
me, too.
It’s
just fine with me if they call me Grandma. I waited a half century to hear it and I whisper "I love you" every chance I get.
Photo:
My sister, Shari, me and our youngest granddaughter, Sierra, at her baptism
party a few years ago.
Very sweet! I can tell from your stories how much you love being a grandmother. I think you're a great one. :)
ReplyDeleteAww. Thank you, Rhonda. Some day you'll be one, too. Some day. =0)
DeleteBeing a grandma is such great fun, isn't it? I enjoyed watching my Mom and her delight over my kids. Now that I am a grandma, I understand better how she felt. :) Our grandson calls us grandma and grandpa, and we're just fine with that!
ReplyDeleteHappy weekend!
My husband's dad was always Pop. We're called Grandma and Grandpa by all but the youngest now. I'll take it! Have a great weekend, too, Karen. God bless.
Delete"A rose by any other name is just as sweet." Enjoyable read!
ReplyDeleteWhat a great way to look at it, Jen!
DeleteI'd give anything for that title, but I do get so much pleasure in being an aunt and a great one at that (pun intended)!
ReplyDeleteEveryone who calls you "aunt" would agree, Cindy!
Delete