Less than four weeks to go. It's a fact impending, though not certain. First babies can be early, can be late, but rarely are they exactly on time. :-)
Not that it matters; I will be here waiting, listening, caring, working. I will be here. Very little seems important now except this. Waiting for my first grandchild to arrive is carrying more concern with it than I remember with my own. Obviously that can't be true, but I do believe the uncertainty of this future is greater, as I will only be on the periphery. This life will be dependent upon my offspring and his spouse. For a person who likes to maintain control in all areas, what a tough prospect!
They are good, they are concerned, they will love this child with their entire beings. All will be well - all will be wonderful.
Grandparenthood: It's supposed to be wonderful, being able to spend time and then hand them back in time for baths, burping, bad times. There's an edge to the world right now, like I can't get a deep breath. I'm hovering on the edge of the next generation and not clear where the edge really is. All while I listen to Karen Carpenter's silky voice softly singing in the background. Raising children is really best done by the young; the old get lost in their memories.
What's the saying about seasons? To everything there is a season - and the birth of this child will knock me perceptibly into the fall of my life. Maybe I'm already there, but I've been unaware. It's all around me and yet I don't see it. But I am not alone here, there are others living in this season, too, thinking they're in another. It helps us to continue. We're not really delusional, but while deluding ourselves to some degree; not purposefully.
I love that I am here, I truly do. I can't wait to be called "grandma" or "nana" or whatever works best for this wonderful new person who will only be a quarter of me. And then not necessarily a whole quarter, more like a part of a half.
I must stop watching the old videos, they are making me somber.
Children. The best things in life. They grow so quickly. They procreate. A plan, a good plan, a way of life. A great, wonderful plan.
Now Sarah McLachlan. Building a mystery. How appropriate.
I can't believe how quickly the fall of life has arrived. The next thing I know, it will be winter. Ah, well, I do love the snow...
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Monday, March 1, 2010
A Time Capsule
The house is in disarray, but is it possible to have "good" disarray? Ask me if I feel that way in a couple of days, when the mess is still here... :-)
Actually, my son, who moved back in a couple of months ago when he joined the unemployed - along with so many more - has tackled the bedroom he is supposed to be living in. Since it had become a storage room because I have no attic or basement space, there was a lot to be done! The room is looking better, but now there are significant piles of organized chaos throughout the rest of the house. Hopefully it doesn't take too long to get through them all, and hopefully, again, I can bring myself to let go of some of these things!
Why do we hang onto the past? What is it that makes us feel that it was a better time? Really, was it?
As my son and his girlfriend made their way through the room, they made it a goal to get rid of anything that they labeled "garbage," which to them many times meant paper products: newspaper, invoices, school papers, etc. They had spent more than a day filling plastic bags with this garbage when I came upon just a couple of examples where we might disagree:
The single most obvious answer for me is: Yes. Watching my mom deal with her Alzheimer's for just the short three months she's been here now, I can tell you that in time I won't even think about these things anymore, let alone be able to remember the details. I keep them as a sort of a "time capsule" - something I can pull out later, wander through and remember what was going on during that period of my life in a very specific way: they are dated! Even with photos it's becoming more and more difficult to do this. I have whole collections of photos that have no date on them, and those are the ones that have made it to be printed. I won't even talk about the ones stored on my computer, that, while they are dated, run the risk of hard drive failure.
Along with the two examples I've already cited, you can also find in my capsule: A spiral bound book of hand-drawings from my third child's 2nd grade class, entitled "Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed;" every report card I received in high school, and an assortment from other years; a copy of my SAT scores and my college transcript (two single pages, seriously!); notes from a Cub Scout planning session with info from each family (names!) on who would be responsible for what items at the upcoming camping trip; various assorted drawings and photos drawn or taken by my artsy kids; and two copies of my daughter's scoliosis x-rays, one early on and the other as her spine was beginning to resolve - much straighter!
Really, there's more. Obviously. My kids just roll their eyes at me, but I'm not ready to give up these things yet, if I ever will be. I am looking forward to the day when I pull out the - hopefully single - box that contains these precious items and can spend a couple of hours just perusing my past, remembering the teacher who went the extra mile and documented early drawings, the efforts that went into college, the 10 years as a Cub Scout leader (yes, I'll be remembering all three groups for whom I was den leader, as well as my three years with the Girl Scouts!), the wonderful fact that I gave birth to different kinds of people - some with artistic talent, and just how far we were able to come to better my daughter's life as she walks into adulthood much taller and straighter.
I can feel the warmth of it all already. The gratefulness of a life well-spent, the acknowledgement of the many years as a parent, and earlier as a young adult. For all of this I am thankful. And hopeful - in less than two months I will become a grandparent for the first time. Think of all the new things I can add to my box!
Overall, I would say it has been a good week. :0)
Actually, my son, who moved back in a couple of months ago when he joined the unemployed - along with so many more - has tackled the bedroom he is supposed to be living in. Since it had become a storage room because I have no attic or basement space, there was a lot to be done! The room is looking better, but now there are significant piles of organized chaos throughout the rest of the house. Hopefully it doesn't take too long to get through them all, and hopefully, again, I can bring myself to let go of some of these things!
Why do we hang onto the past? What is it that makes us feel that it was a better time? Really, was it?
As my son and his girlfriend made their way through the room, they made it a goal to get rid of anything that they labeled "garbage," which to them many times meant paper products: newspaper, invoices, school papers, etc. They had spent more than a day filling plastic bags with this garbage when I came upon just a couple of examples where we might disagree:
- In one pile of newspaper I located the group that had been saved of the coverage of my husband's dog attack.
- Located only by the obvious goldenrod color, my copies of a school newsletter I had worked on for many years had made it into the garbage bag already.
The single most obvious answer for me is: Yes. Watching my mom deal with her Alzheimer's for just the short three months she's been here now, I can tell you that in time I won't even think about these things anymore, let alone be able to remember the details. I keep them as a sort of a "time capsule" - something I can pull out later, wander through and remember what was going on during that period of my life in a very specific way: they are dated! Even with photos it's becoming more and more difficult to do this. I have whole collections of photos that have no date on them, and those are the ones that have made it to be printed. I won't even talk about the ones stored on my computer, that, while they are dated, run the risk of hard drive failure.
Along with the two examples I've already cited, you can also find in my capsule: A spiral bound book of hand-drawings from my third child's 2nd grade class, entitled "Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed;" every report card I received in high school, and an assortment from other years; a copy of my SAT scores and my college transcript (two single pages, seriously!); notes from a Cub Scout planning session with info from each family (names!) on who would be responsible for what items at the upcoming camping trip; various assorted drawings and photos drawn or taken by my artsy kids; and two copies of my daughter's scoliosis x-rays, one early on and the other as her spine was beginning to resolve - much straighter!
Really, there's more. Obviously. My kids just roll their eyes at me, but I'm not ready to give up these things yet, if I ever will be. I am looking forward to the day when I pull out the - hopefully single - box that contains these precious items and can spend a couple of hours just perusing my past, remembering the teacher who went the extra mile and documented early drawings, the efforts that went into college, the 10 years as a Cub Scout leader (yes, I'll be remembering all three groups for whom I was den leader, as well as my three years with the Girl Scouts!), the wonderful fact that I gave birth to different kinds of people - some with artistic talent, and just how far we were able to come to better my daughter's life as she walks into adulthood much taller and straighter.
I can feel the warmth of it all already. The gratefulness of a life well-spent, the acknowledgement of the many years as a parent, and earlier as a young adult. For all of this I am thankful. And hopeful - in less than two months I will become a grandparent for the first time. Think of all the new things I can add to my box!
Overall, I would say it has been a good week. :0)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)