Friday, August 31, 2007

Dearest God,

I spent the day helping my daughter. Besides washing and folding a half dozen or so loads of laundry, I was able to spend time with two of my grandchildren. Two year old Lucia (better known as Lucy) and Rylan, two weeks.

I was standing by the stove finishing up lunch when my daughter asked Lucy if she had said her prayers. (She had already eaten most of her soup.) Lucy put down her noodles (she eats soup with her fingers) and cupped her head in her hands. She closed her eyes tight as her greasy little fingers held her hair close to her head. "Dear God..." As Jill filled in the middle of the prayer since Lucy is usually the prayer starter, Lucy turned her head slightly and popped open one eye staring right at me. I nearly collapsed into laughter. Then she said loudly, "Amen."
Praying is a fervent activity for this bright little firecracker.

Later in the afternoon I picked up Rylan because he was very fussy. He had just suffered an assault from three people who had just shown up as we were putting him to bed, walked into the house, talking loudly. They picked him up like he was a rag doll and started talking to him like he was a two year old, laughing. I sat there and watched in horror as the five pound miracle baby started spitting up. It was like a whirlwind had entered the room. They only stayed for a few minutes, gave Jill a gift, then left. They hadn't done anything wrong; after all, they love him too. But oh my goodness.

I held him quietly in my arms as Lucy kept saying, "baby brudder, baby brudder." His little eyes popped open and he looked up at me. "I'm your grandma andrea." I whispered. "I love you very much." Then I began to sing a quiet lullaby and to pray. I placed him close to my chest and he kept bobbing his little head to look upward.

I remembered the last few months. Jill's difficult pregnancy. Gabrielle's worry about her mommy. The anxiety we all had. Lucy summed it up best when she mimmicked her mother, holding on to her tummy, leaning forward, knees bent, walking around saying, "hurt, hurt, hurt." We all hurt for a while.

But Jill is recovering from her C-section, the two older girls decided it was okay after all to keep their new brother, and Rylan is gobbling down his bottle, quickly returning to his birth weight. Matt is back to work. And although the costs of the pregnancy, repeated hospital visits, the premature birth, and several days in the NICU have skyrocketed the family budget, the family of five is returning to normal.

How different all this could have been. We could have lost Rylan, wreaking havoc in the family. But we didn't. Instead we got a miracle. The doctors and nurses agree. We are blessed.

Your love
has touched us
once again.
The brightness
of your light
has shined
upon us.
We are blessed,
by you,
Most Gracious One.
We stand
in awe
and thanksgiving.
We give praise
to you.
May we
always remember
your kindness
to us.

Love, Andrea