It’s A Grandma Thing

I’d always heard that there’s something so very different – and much better – about being a grandma than a mother. Not until Kendyll was born did I understand that. I realize that it isn’t so much about the relationship between grandparent and grandchild but more about the wisdom that comes with having “been there.”

Case in point: I was away for five days and returned home with loads of things to blog. I still have loads of things to blog. I’ve read a few posts from my friends here and there, knowing that they stole a moment away from the kids to post their thoughts. I’ve done that before.

I didn’t do it this time, though. I don’t do it much at all anymore. When Kendyll is here, I don’t blog. I’d never really thought about that much before but it’s true. When Kendyll is here, I’m at her side. I’m always waiting to hear her call, “Nana” so that I can be right there, ready to play or whatever she needs.

It wasn’t like that with my own kids.

This has nothing to do with loving my granddaughter more than I loved my kids. It has everything to do with knowing. I know that every single thing we do today will pass; tomorrow will be too late. I know that all I have is this moment and all that matters is being totally present in this moment, with Kendyll. I know how fleeting childhood is and that there’s no guarantees about tomorrow.

I wish I’d known these things when my own kids were young. I think I knew it but I didn’t quite believe that the day would ever come that the kids weren’t in diapers, weren’t underfoot, weren’t small and full of wonder. I believe it now.

Grandchildren are a second chance at really living.

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