My memories of my grandparents are in snatches, scenes I
remember mostly because my grandparents did things for me and with me.
My only grandmother was a craftsy person. She had all kinds
of handcrafts already cut out so that my brother and I could put them together.
She crocheted tirelessly. She also played the piano and tried—bless her
heart—to teach me to play. I was to be her “star pupil.” Well . . . let’s just
say I didn’t exactly fulfill her dreams. Carnegie Hall never called.
Her husband, my paternal “Granddad” passed away when I was
nine, so I remember less about him. He was always smiling and laughing. He
could recite poetry—long poems—one
after another. He was educated with the McGuffey readers and shared them with
us. He planted the most amazing organic garden you ever saw. He planted flowers
next to veggies. It was a work of art. He even raised raspberries.
All my grandparents were born before 1900, so you can
imagine the changes that came in their lifetimes. I have a picture of my
paternal grandfather in a buggy behind a horse. He was seventeen and quite a
dandy. My other grandfather actually surrendered his life to the Lord while
riding on a horse.
My maternal grandfather was a character! He was a tiny
little man who had suffered rheumatoid arthritis as a young man, during the
Great Depression. He kept going, though, and he could do things (like making
knives he cut out of saw blades) that most people with perfectly well hands
couldn’t do. He loved gardening and hated dandelions in the yard. He would ask
us questions just to make us think. Often, he’d play the “devil’s advocate.”
Many times, we children had no idea what he
really thought! He had sparkly eyes and a ready laugh. My Granddad lived with our
family for the last ten years of his life, and we all dearly loved him.
This week, our son’s wife had their first baby, a little
boy. We’ve been grandparents before, but this one is so special. Every child is a blessing.
What kind of a grandma do I want to be?
How will our children’s children remember me?
- I want them to think I’m fun.
- I want the children to know they’re loved but not indulged.
- I want to impact them for the Lord in a natural way.
- I want my gifts to them to be toys and books that will be cherished and remembered. (Better to buy less and the gifts be fun and meaningful.)
- I want them to remember me as godly.
Our new baby grandson is named Samuel, which means “asked of
God.” His parents asked the Lord for him, and I did, too. He’s a tiny answer to
prayer.
I pray I will mean as much to him as he already does to me.
But the mercy of the LORD is from everlasting to
everlasting upon them that fear him, and his righteousness unto children’s
children; To such as keep his covenant, and to those that remember his
commandments to do them (Psalm 103:17-18).
“Lord, help me be that kind of
grandma—the kind that obeys you.”
Do you have any special stories
about your grandparents you’d like to share? What qualities do you think are
important for Christian grandparents to have? I’d love to hear your ideas.