Fortunate beyond measure…the joys of being a grandmother

There is a four-letter word that is one of the sweetest sounds ever to my ear  - “Tutu” which is what my two grand daughters call me (Hawaiian for grand mother, the name stuck when Lana was a toddler after I brought her a book about a Tutu who taught her grand daughter Lanilai how to do the Hula). Or if they are feeling sassy, it’s “Tut” or “Tutukamen.”

Don’t get me wrong, being a mom is the most amazing experience ever and my children have been my greatest source of love, joy, and heart opening – and grief and every emotion imaginable when they are going through a hard time, whatever their ages – imaginable.  Having children is literally like having pieces of your heart running around outside of you. 

But being a grandmother… well, its’ all the joys of motherhood, but without quite the same angst and responsibility.  And having seen it all, been through it all, weathered it all with my own kids, and having grown a little older and hopefully a lot wiser, being a grand parent is… what can I say?  Pretty much pure joy.  Not that, as one of my fellow grandmother friends puts it,  “worry wart grandma” doesn’t sneak in now and then.

Of course it does. Having grandchildren is also like having pieces of your heart running around outside of you.  Especially the tender, vulnerable, wide open to all that life has to offer, pieces. Just as with your children, you want to protect them from life’s challenges, but you know you can’t. And so you just love them, and trust their journeys, and allow your heart to break open, again and again, with both happiness and sadness.

Being a grand mother is indeed a joy beyond measure…. and being blessed to experience both an aging parent and growing young ones together is a double joy, one that I am infinitely grateful for. There is something indescribably precious about witnessing the beginning years of life, and the ending years of life, hand in hand. Learning from both, feeling tenderly protective of both, marveling at the mystery of Life itself as it flows through our bodies, young and old.

Blessed be.

A summer update: steps along the journey of caring for an elderly parent

We’ve noticed a shift in my almost 89-year-old mum in the last couple of weeks. Suddenly, she seems older, frailer. She’s feeling it too.  She talks more frequently about feeling like she’s on the way out. She expresses how she just can’t seem to find her energy, and doesn’t know who she is anymore. Her level of forgetfulness is definitely worsening. We have honest conversations about death, and choices. I give her lots of hugs.

Our visits to the doctor are getting more frequent. We’re investigating how her heart is functioning. A new round of tests and specialists. And in the midst of this, a move to a new care home this week. Her current place is just a bit too far from us, and it’s on a busy street, the sound of traffic bothers her. Her new home is only a few minutes away from us, with a lovely quiet back yard that looks out onto a field of beautiful trees. She finds so much solace and peace in nature. A lovely living room with the type of furniture that reminds her of home back in England, with a piano she can play.

It’s a big decision, the upheaval of a move when she is already frail, and has experienced so much change in the last six months since her husband died. And yet, in spite of how she is feeling, she is up for it, which gives me hope.

I spend time with my granddaughters, and watch them grow and change, delighting in the new persons they are becoming, and mourning just a tad the little girls they used to be. With my mum, it’s the opposite… she becomes more childlike, more dependent, and there is more mourning than delight in watching her change.  And yet, I remind myself, this is just the natural rhythm of life… and all I can do is be lovingly present for it, in whatever stage, and adapt to what is needed of me to support what is happening.

It’s a bit scary sometimes, to be so needed by her. I go away for a few days and she misses me terribly.  Tells me she feels like she can’t function without me, that I’m her other half. We have some short week-long trips away planned this summer, a dear friend’s daughter’s wedding in Boston, our yearly pilgrimage to the Yuba river. I worry a bit. Am I doing the right thing by going away? Can I, should I, do I want to, put my own life on hold? It’s hard to know… and so I take it one day at a time, being grateful for this bitter sweet time with her, loving her, being gentle with myself, and trusting that I will know what to do at each turn of the corner on this journey we are walking together.

The ebb and flow: navigating the tides of change

Just as the seasons come and go, the tides rise and fall, days make way for nights… each day, week, month, year has its own rhythm.

I’m definitely in a summer rhythm. A flurry of spring projects completed, fall not yet on the horizon, it’s time for catching up, clearing up, but especially a time for family events.

As I sit on a park bench watching my granddaughter swing on the monkey bars, I chat with another grandmother. I flash back to all those years ago when I was watching my own children at the park, now here I am 30-40+ years later, and history repeats itself, albeit so much has changed and it’s a new little person on those monkey bars.

And me? Enjoying the difference of perspectives that a generation brings, the blessing of being a full time grandmother for a summer week, witnessing the interaction between my 89-year-old mother and my seven-year-old granddaughter.

The demands of the workplace seem to have taken a back seat for now, and just as surely as I know the moon will rise and the tide will come in, I trust that the season of full time work engagement will return. 

For now, it’s time to surrender to Legos and puzzles and parks, to go with this flow, knowing I will be fully present when the next tide of work events surges in.

It seems like a simple thing, to just be in the now with what is happening, but so often our attention is divided and we are never fully neither here or there, but caught between our thoughts of where we should be, or could be, or would rather be. I know, I’ve been there.

So wherever you are dear reader, just be there, and know that it will change.

How do you balance your work and personal life?

Most of the time it seems as if we are squeezing in the personal in between our work obligations, but sometimes it is the other way around – personal takes precedence. It’s been one of those weeks.

Between my granddaughter’s first day of summer and my elderly mum having some medical and legal issues to take care, there hasn’t been a lot of work going on this week.

And you know what? I have decided that rather than stressing about it, it’s OK.  I’m blessed to be self employed and having the flexibility to manage my time and my work; we are a 2 income family and I’m not the only one paying the bills, in fact my hubby’s biz is booming. I realize that not everyone has the luxury of taking the time to take care of family when the need is there, or if they do, may face serious financial and employment consequences. So I am feeling very grateful.

Grateful to have been able to spend the day with my seven-year-old granddaughter reliving that magical feeling of  the expansive freedom of the first day of summer vacation, enjoying her day of skateboarding, monkey bars, puzzles and an ice cream treat.

Grateful to spend this time with my mum, helping her though the hurdles of aging, knowing that at 88, it’s really an unknown much time we have left with her. 

Work will always be there, but there are only so many first days of summer vacation, and only so many days to walk the path with an aging parent.

Just like a seesaw, sometimes one side is up, and sometimes it’s down and rarely is it perfectly poised in the middle. And that seems to be the way of things.

So here is my advice on a summer afternoon – trust your heart to lead the way, and at the end of the day, you will find that right balance.

Clouds in the water

I drove my granddaughters to school this morning. We talk about the color of the water. The little one tells me the water is really clear but it looks blue because of the reflection from the sky. Her big sister told her it was so. 

We marvel at the beauty of the clouds reflected in the water. It is a good day, and we are blessed to be alive, to start our day surrounded by such beauty.