Gray Hair and Puddles
Time is quick silver. Standing at the further end, grateful for children who are tax paying, community enhancing adults, I can admire a life with rewards. But where did the time go?
Some days my memories drift back to raising small children, those harried days when it was difficult to find a moment for myself, where tasks and “have-to’s” tumbled one on top of the other. Those years passed so swiftly. One minute I had babies who then went off to school and became teenagers overnight. College and weddings and then they were grown. And, miracle of miracles, their babies brought memories flooding back.
Somehow playing on the floor with grandchildren isn’t as tiring as it was with my own kids. I’ve played hours of Barbies and Power Rangers and built a hundred snowmen. And snowwomen. Snow children and snow dogs. I have a patience with grandchildren that edges on indulgence.
Looking back, I wonder how much more enriching my children’s lives might have been if I’d have been as relaxed with them as I am with their children. Somehow, in the midst of the frey, we take ourselves too seriously. We worry about measuring up to the other moms and dads. My view is different with the grandchildren. I have climbed a tree with them. Sadly, life seemed too pressing to take that time with my children.
If we allowed it, our minds could be filled with regrets. But time cannot be recycled. We do our best with what we know, hopefully never sacrificing the desire to change and learn. My children now struggle for time as I did. They appreciate my hours with Barbie and the little girls. They love when I can go to one child’s ball game while they rush off to another. I can already see the shadows lengthening across their faces, can see their longing to spend more time with each child. Inside, I smile, knowing the cherry on the ice cream is the grandchildren. Knowing that season is getting close for them.
God gave us grandchildren as a gentle do-over, as a gift for all our rushing and worry and struggles when our own children were small. We didn’t get it right as often as we should have. But we cared. And thank God, they didn’t know any different. They drank it all in to such a depth that they’re now repeating our mistakes.
All of our life we learn. In the end we realize it went faster than we thought possible. Yet it was filled with love and lessons and experiences that caused us to grow. Regrets simply steal our gratitude.
It is best to thank God for the gift of life, the touch of small hands, the wonder of love and the delight of dancing in the rain.