Friday, December 26, 2008

Dearest God,

The room was filled with grandchildren, well, eight of them. Only one was missing. Beautiful grandchildren that I have come to love so much. There is a history with each one, stories I could tell that warm my heart and keep me close.

But there is one for each that is particularly close. One saved her mother's life when she had ovarian cancer. One was ill at Riley Hospital but her mother and I were estranged. A friend who was doing her CPE laid hands on her and silently prayed that my granddaughter and I would be close through prayer. Another nearly died at Clarian West and then it was touch and go at Riley. Another had histoplasmosis and was in and out of Riley for a while. One, a three year old, goes around calling me a cusser because I use the word "crap." One was just a few months old and because her mom and I were estranged, I had never seen her. When another daughter had surgery, the baby was brought to the hospital. When my daughter was distracted, I whispered to the baby that I was her grandma. I threw her a kiss. One of my young grandson's came up to me when his mother and I were reunited and told me he had three grandmas and I was one of them. Those words brought joy to my heart and tears to my eyes. One granddaughter at six decided she wanted to be a teacher so she spent time one afternoon teaching me math facts. Another grandson who had not seen me in five years appeared in the sanctuary on the day of my mother's memorial service and suddenly remembered the cross that I had pointed out to him the day I returned him to his home when he was barely three.

Every one of these occasions has been a gift to me. I look at these young lives and I realize how incredibly blessed I am. I see their faces; I hear their voices and I light up like a Christmas tree.

This morning I went to my daughter's home before 7:00 a.m. because I shopped early for Christmas lights that she wanted. As each grandchild awakened and came downstairs, he or she would sit on my lap at which time I wrapped them in a blanket and held them until they warmed up. That one would move when the next one came downstairs and the next one climbed aboard.

A memory is made every time I am with them. No day, no occasion, no event is ordinary. Every moment is special and I recognize the gift they are. I am so grateful.

Grandchildren
are angel kisses.
Little people
full of
life and love.
Running and hollering
through my house
at Christmas
conjures up
even more love.
They each
bear your likeness.
Thank you.

Loving you always, Andrea