The mother of one of my very dear lifelong friends, Noah Harrell, wrote a touching guest blog post for Liza in the Lou on being a Grandmother. I think that it will resonate with many of you as you reflect on your relationship with your own mother or mother-in-law.
---
My daughter called me from Italy to tell me I had “jinxed” her. In less than two seconds flat I screamed so loud she could have heard me in Verona without the phone! She and her husband were barely 23 and I was 47…and we were all starting into a journey that would forever change our collective lives. She was pregnant.
---
My daughter called me from Italy to tell me I had “jinxed” her. In less than two seconds flat I screamed so loud she could have heard me in Verona without the phone! She and her husband were barely 23 and I was 47…and we were all starting into a journey that would forever change our collective lives. She was pregnant.
When she was about 8 weeks along, I flew to Italy for a week to visit. She was beautiful and she still had a flat stomach, but every day I talked to the little “bean”. I told him how much I loved him and that I was his Gramma. She laughed at me and said he could not hear…but I knew he could. The connection was made and we were forever entangled in this messy, beautiful place called love.
When they got back, she was in her 6th month and I spent quite a bit of time photographing her bump. She told me that she wanted me in the delivery room but her husband had not decided on it completely, so I would have to wait and see. I was as patient as I could be but when she was in labor and going into transition, and he still had not decided if I was in or out, I figured I needed to bring it up. I simply told him that she was getting close and I understood if he wanted me to leave but he would have to tell me...soon! Instead, he asked me to stay and take pictures because he realized he could not be with her and photograph the birth too. I was ecstatic, but just kept on trying to help until it was time. I grabbed my camera and witnessed the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.
I had four kids, the first (his mom) was born by c-section and I was asleep…so I missed that one. The others had the rear view mirror thing to look into but I was too busy to notice what was happening, so this birth was a first for me in many ways. When thy put him in the warmer, and put the gook in his eyes, I was right there. He held my finger while I talked to him and took a million pictures of his first few minutes. When he cried, I whispered his name and cooed to him that everything would be fine. I told him how much I loved him and I stayed with him until they could wrap him up and give him to his mommy and daddy. To this day I tell him I was his first friend, while the doctors and daddy were tending to Mommy, I was with him.
I spent the first week with them to help out and for a year, I came every Friday and stayed the weekend so they could get some sleep and have a date now and then. I still think about those Saturday mornings when he was so tiny. I got to get up with him and just talk to him (and take more pictures) until his parents got up.
I loved being a grandma, but it took a while before I figured out why I loved it so much. I loved him but it was not the same intense love I had for my own children. I kept waiting to feel THAT feeling…but it never came. One day, I watched my child with her child and I figured it out. Loving him, gave me another way to love HER! Through him, I could continue to be a mom to my daughter, teaching, helping, sharing and growing with her as she learned the very things she had taught me about motherhood and unconditional love. I could show how much I loved her by giving her a night off every now and then, by clapping every time he hit a new milestone and by cheering her on every step of the way as she chartered the murky waters of first time motherhood. Mostly I could be a support in the way that only I could be. She knows I understand everything she goes through as a mom…because she remembers me going through it all those years ago as I navigated first time motherhood with her.
I now have three grandchildren and I can honestly say that the love I have for them is completely unconditional. It is not the same love I have for my own children, but it is pure and sweet and honest. I love watching them run from their parents to me and back again. I delight in their screams of joy when I come in their homes and when my oldest asks me if he can spend the night on school nights, I wish with all my heart he could. I can take it when they cry and I can tell them no when I have to. I spend my weekends and my summers and my vacations watching them, playing with them, taking them places and helping their parents as much as I can…because six years later, the same thing is still true. My love for my grandchildren is another way to show love to the people in my life I love more than anything in this world…my children.
--
The author of the post, Dana Harrell, is a super "Gramma", Athens, Georgia resident, teacher, musician, photographer-extraordinaire and occasional blogger. You can find her blog here or her photography page here. If you just want to look at pictures of her beautiful grandkids, I took the liberty of posting one below!
