Janice Braun
Williams
The Joy of the
Lord is my Strength
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Janice Braun
Williams
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THE JOY OF BEING A GRANDMOTHER
By: Janice Williams
My husband and I were privileged to have our daughter and her new husband move in with us after their honeymoon. Sharing our home with them has given us memories that will last into old age. In a time when mother-in-law jokes were the rage, my son-in-law and I developed a deep bond of affection for one another. He helped my husband with the ranch chores and my daughter and I shared the housework and cooking. This arrangement might not have worked for the majority of families, but it worked for us as it worked for families in by-gone days. Back then young married couples built a home on the family homestead. Grandparents helped raise their grandchildren. There were no latchkey kids. In the same way, we helped our daughter and her husband get a head start on saving for a down payment for a home. While they lived with us, our two granddaughters were born. The girls received the benefit of being raised on our 100 acre ranch in the foothills of Livermore, California. I recall so vividly the day our daughter gave birth to her first daughter. My little girl was having a baby! I was there in the delivery room giving her encouragement. When the doctor asked my son-in-law if he wanted to cut the cord, he shook his head, and I was given the honor. When the new baby came home, I was there in the wings to provide support without getting in the way. When my daughter went back to work, we dropped Kayla off at daycare together because we worked in the same business park. And then, when my daughter changed jobs, I dropped Kayla off at daycare because my daughter now worked in the opposite direction. I loved the early morning drive because it gave me time to talk with Kayla. But the best was Tuesday nights. Grandpa bowled on Tuesdays, so Kayla and I had girl’s night in the master bedroom suite. I’d drag the big lounge chair next to the bed, cover it with blankets, add a fluffy pillow and she’d snuggle beneath the coverlet. Sometimes we talked. Sometimes we watched her favorite television program. Always we said our prayers together. Nothing will ever replace the memories of her little hand in mine as we fell asleep together. I cherish her last words before she closed her eyes. “I love you Grammy.”
The night my daughter’s labor began with her second child, she brought Kayla into my bedroom. I nudged Grandpa and he moved over, and we made room for our darling granddaughter. Half-asleep, Kayla snuggled beneath the covers. It wasn’t long before she realized her mom was gone. We talked about what was happening at the hospital. I reassured her everything would be okay. We asked God to bless her mommy, daddy and new sister, and then she reached for my hand. Together we fell asleep knowing that her mommy was in good hands.
I didn’t think I could love another
grandchild as much as loved the ones I already had, but the cycle began all
over again the first time I saw Katelyn. Now there were two little girls to
have sleepovers with, two little girls to drop off at daycare, two little
girls to share ranch life with.
How time flies. Kayla will be eleven in October and Katelyn celebrated her
seventh birthday this past February. My hair is turning gray. New wrinkles
appear daily but it doesn’t matter because the best part of getting old is
being a grandmother and knowing I made, and continue to make, memories for my
grandchildren.
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One
of my favorite Bible
verses, especially when I begin work on a new project |
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