Granddaughter Stassa is having her tenth birthday this weekend. I’ve never met her, but I know she is in a wonderful, loving home. So is granddaughter Beth with her Carrie. So are grandkids Ryah and David. In this family, Love has a lot of different open arms.
I made a decision early in my sobriety to back off and stay out of the way. I knew I wasn’t very healthy, and I knew I did a very poor job raising my kids in an actively alcoholic home. If nurture had anything to do with alcoholism, I thought that all my grandkids would be healthier without my input. As a result, I’ve never gotten to know any of them very well. I really miss that.
My grandmother Maudie was my special source of non-judgmental love. When I was small, I didn’t realize that she had only $85.00 dollars a month to live on, I only knew that any visit with her was always magical. We’d have her special tuna salad. Perhaps I’d be allowed to walk on top of a wall or two on the way to the store. We would build houses and worlds out of clay. I knew these small things were always filled with love. Today, I know I wasn’t very nice to her either as a teen and young adult.
I’ve always been grateful that any family with our grandkids has invited us into their worlds. The Geezer has loved these kids as much as I have. We learned about soccer, and we plugged our ears and smiled through band practice. There’s been the theater and Border Patrol camps. There’s been long silences too. I’ve hated those. I’ve said nothing as anything I said was taken the wrong way.
But love keeps on going no matter what you do. I used to wonder at those grandmother’s who kept pictures all over their house. Now I’m a grandmother who keeps those pictures all over her hard drive.
Love is a special thing…indeed.