I continue to reflect on this past sabbatical year and the invaluable stretching and strengthening of my emotions and spirit. I compare it to grueling training, like preparing for a marathon. I have stretched... my meager writing skills, penning a therapeutic, heritage-investigating Memoir and then strengthened that information through blogs. Many tears were shed... some were guilt-ridden, wishing I had been a better mother and daughter; some were joyful gratitude-filled tears, for undeserved mercy extended to this adult child of an alcoholic; others were just plain weary tears.
Patience and perseverance STRENGTHEN me, and I see this most annoying revelation tied to decision-making: In many situations there is actually more than one "right" option. Grunt! Groan! Oomph! and argh! In other words, I lack omniscient powers. I will try to not sweat... the small stuff anyway. I will carefully choose my sweating battles. Happy day!
To interact positively with family and others, patience and flexibility s-t-r-e-t-c-h my kindness quotient. I actually aspire to give more than I get, with no expectations in return; but, why are those muscles for "extra-giving" so tight? It feels like I am performing the (muscle-tearing) Chinese splits.
I reflect on yesterday's heartwarming activity--interacting with my, too tremendous, 2-year-old. We are all anxiously counting the days before the birth of his brother. Last night's treasured opportunity helped to pass time, and for me, did not disappoint. Mom and Dad enjoyed together a rare, dinner-&-movie-out night, and I (DeDe) babysat. This aspiring blogger now forever captures last night's close encounter moment.
It is a busy and long day for the little guy, with just one 20-minute cat nap in the car. By 6:00 p.m. his eyelids are like lead weights, succumbing to brief, eye-closure kitty naps. He heroically fights committing to the early, sissy bedtime. Mom and Dad can no longer delay their movie-departure and say hesitant "goodbyes," making our little guy's tears flow freely. I gently share, "I know you're sad. It's sad when Mommy and Daddy leave."
He sucks up his tears and bravely distracts himself, watching TVs Daniel the Tiger. With his back to me, I patiently wait for
How do I convince this over-tired little guy to head upstairs to relax for sleep? Grandma is supposed to be the gullible spoiler rather than the edgy enforcer. I opt for the stretching approach, using patient flexibility. After a short time, no convincing is needed, because shock of all shocks, he initiates the long climb to his bedroom. I turn out the lights, sit in his memory-filled rocker, and talk about the busy day, with his special world of colorful balls, Daniel the Tiger, petting zoo pigs, ducks and horses, and family dog Brodie.
Maybe he is bored listening to my quiet chatter, because the next thing I know he climbs up, nestles his back into my welcoming lap, and closes his weary eyelids. Gentle muscle and face twitches begin as, shock of all shocks and faster than the speed of light, he replays an uncharacteristic behavior I have blogged about before; falling asleep in my lap, this time with no delay.
This long-distance grandma is strengthened and ready... to seize an eternal opportunity. I wistfully longed for this grandson-stilled, close-encounter moment. I figuratively bow to my knees and pray, for my daughter's oh so special and energetic 2.5-year-old. I pray for Jesus to guide and protect him... and ask for my grandson's mind and heart to grow to love His Savior God, the Creator of roly-polies.
Tear puddles form in my eye sockets as I rehearse and re-experience yesterday's undeserved, unexpected (stretched, strengthened, and trained-for) grandchild moment. Prayer hasn't always been my natural response in good times. Throughout this past precious year, the Good-Times Prayer Station is one of the varied and grueling regimens for which I have trained.
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