People say my granddaughter, Grace, looks like me. I would hear that as a child as well, that I looked like my grandmother. I know I am a lot like her. I had a special bond with my grandmother. One that couldn’t be expressed in words. One that I need to put into words.
I loved to go visit and stay with her. She never did anything that could be considered “special.” No walks or visits to fun places (she didn’t drive). She didn’t garden or craft or teach me anything that I didn’t learn somewhere else. Nothing about her life was “grand.” She didn’t pass anything down to me but time. I would sit at the kitchen table and she would cook and from time to time sit with me. Sometimes she would talk. Sometimes she didn’t. Maybe it was the “sameness” that we shared. There was a silent understanding between us. Both of us were very “private” (I heard that often growing up as well).
As she got older and was alone, I would pick her up and take her to the doctor, other appointments or grocery shopping. Afterwards she would take me out to lunch at a diner nearby. Nothing fancy. But a treat just the same as I liked having the extra time with her as well as a meal out (rare in those times). I remember she would tell me stories. I wish I had written them down as they have faded from my memory.
I don’t remember much about my grandfather. He was there, but I don’t have any images of him being around as I relive the times with my grandmother at that kitchen table. He must have held a special place in my heart though. He passed away before I was married and I was heart-broken that he wouldn’t be there.
I still miss my grandmother. More than any other family member who has passed. I wish I could talk to her and tell her what I’m doing and where my life is now. She lived a simple life, so I’m sure mine would be beyond what she could understand. She would listen and say little I’m sure, but I’d still want to tell it. And to listen to her story, really listen. Though another part of me thinks we would just sit in each other’s silence and understand. No words spoken.
Now as a grandparent, there is no greater thing than spending time with my grandchildren. That they love coming to visit is a priceless treasure I hold dear in my heart.
Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children.
There is a difference however, between the generation of my grandmother to my grandchildren. I prayed for my grandmother. Prayer, God, and my Risen Savior were not a part of her life.
And now I pray for my grandchildren:
That my God will be their God. That they will walk with Him all the days of their lives.
That I can pray for them, see God work in their lives (even the very youngs ones) is an even greater treasure I hold dear to my heart.
I will establish my covenant as an everlasting covenant between me and you and your descendants after you for the generations to come, to be your God and the God of your descendants after you.
Blesses many times over. On the Journey, Jackie