Becoming Grandma

In one month, I will become a GRANDMA! We are so excited to see this baby's arrival.

I have two sons and four nephews. My husband is one of three sons. His father, one of 2 sons. The Tatums have only had sons since the Civil War (my husband's cousin Susan was a rare exception). However, in the current generation one of my nephews has three GIRLS. AMAZING! So when my youngest and his wife announced their pregnancy, we all wondered if the girls would continue.

When each of my sons was born, my mother-in-law would say, "What else?" I loved my sons, don't get me wrong, but I so wanted a girl to sew for. I did sew for my sons, but it's not quite as thrilling. Part of me also wanted to prove that having a girl in this family was possible. So when my first great niece was born, I was thrilled. When the second great niece was born, I knitted them each a purple sweater. When the third was born, I was simply delighted with such a beautiful family of girls.

What does this "Becoming Grandma" mean to me? Both my sons and daughters-in-law have been trying to conceive. Our youngest and his wife miscarried in October before this pregnancy came to be. My oldest son and daughter-in-law are walking the path of infertility. So some of "becoming a grandma" has involved grief for the child lost and for the child so greatly desired. There's also grief for the strain in relationship between my sons as "having a baby" has overshadowed both their lives. As only a bystander in this process of conception, becoming grandma is joy at what is to come and the hope for a child yet unrealized.

When it came time to peek into the womb, we were anxious to know the sex of the child. The sonogram answered our questions: It's a boy! Of course, we would have been thrilled with either a boy or a girl, but I found a strange excitement mixed with calm about having another little boy.

Yes, I have knitted a baby blanket in a color combination called grape jam. That purply color seems all too appropriate for a toddler dragging it behind him.

Many friends extol the joys of grandparenthood with wallets of pictures, with pins & tee shirts proclaiming grandparent status, and with a myriad of stories of the cutest things their grandchildren have done. I happily await that day when this boychild is gathered into my arms. I know I will feel the thankfulness, pride, and joy of his parents, but I also anticipate the warmth of this baby and the inexplicable deja vu of holding my own sons. The memories from the past will flood back to being a mom, dedicating them to God, watching them learn so many things including the stories of Jesus, and helping them navigate education, marriage, and adulthood.

I'll also have the privilege of looking into his face and seeing the future.

Missing the Home Place

 by Babs Mountjoy

Ours is a mobile society, which is one of the blessings of living in a country like America. We have freedom to travel and a good number of our citizens have the financial wherewithal to do so. Once I graduated from college, I moved away from home, first out West, then down South, and then back to the Northeast over many years.

All three of my daughters have taken advantage of this mobility, too—the oldest has been a Navy girl, and then a Navy wife, traveling to Japan, Guam, Florida and Washington State. (She even pointed out when she moved to Washington that I had to come visit her now because she’d moved closer—it might have been closer than Guam, but it was still nearly three thousand miles from PA!)

Now daughter # 2 is ensconced with a husband and new baby in Reno, Nevada and the third is in Asheville, NC, working as a pastry chef at the Biltmore Estate. They’re all doing very well. But are they missing out?

Our small town is full up with families who have lived here for generations. Son lives here, his dad and mom live here, his grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, all here too. That sense of home is here, too. A dozen people I could name right off the top of my head could hop in the car and go to grandma’s house within fifteen minutes. That’s a real gift, in my book.

When I was a kid, my parents were divorced, and we spent a lot of time at the grandparents’ homes. Those places were havens of safety and comfort for me, one an Indiana farmhouse, another a small suburban house outside Youngstown. Just walking up the front steps created a wonderful feeling in my heart. I continued to go for years, even after I grew up and had my own family, and the same feeling persisted.

 But one by one, my grandparents passed away. At the farmhouse, my aunt and uncle moved in and took over the property. As of that moment, we have never been welcome in the same way. The same when my father gave up his parents’ home and sold it to strangers.  (They took down the big trees out front and painted it GRAY!) The experience people here in town have, where they can always go to “grandma’s house” because some other family member has it and treasures those warm fuzzies, is something I no longer have.

 The same is true for my girls. My father’s home is gone, and recently their father’s mother gave up the home where they spent every summer of their childhood. So they’ve lost that sweet security as well. Maybe they wouldn’t have visited as often, now that they’re off and involved with their own lives. But now they can't.

It seems that in this freedom we have to travel, we’ve lost something, that feeling of security and always knowing where “home” is. Thomas Wolfe, of course, said we can’t go home again. But I’m not sure he’d say that was a good thing. I’m pretty sure it isn’t. I miss my girls, and I wish we all still had a place to go together that meant “family.” How about you? Is there a home place that your family shares, or have your loved ones scattered to the winds, too?

Barbara “Babs” Mountjoy has written since she was a little girl, unable to restrain the stories that percolated through her fingers onto her keyboard – or, back then, onto the old Royal typewriter. Babs has been a published author for more than thirty-five years, with a number of publications under her belt. Her non-fiction book, 101 LITTLE INSTRUCTIONS FOR SURVIVING YOUR DIVORCE, was published by Impact Publishers in 1999. Her first novel, THE ELF QUEEN, was released under the pen name Lyndi Alexander in 2010. THE ELF QUEEN launched her Clan Elves of the Bitterroot series, under which the second and third titles, THE ELF CHILD and THE ELF MAGE, released in 2011 and 2012.Hydra Publication has just released her latest novel, LOVE ME, KISS ME, KILL ME, a supernatural mystery, available at Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.com.

 Wild Rose Press released her romantic suspense novels, SECRETS IN THE SAND, in 2011, and, CONVICTION OF THE HEART, in June 2012. Wild Rose Press will also release Babs’ THAT GIRL’S THE ONE I LOVE in September 2012. Zumaya Publications published her women’s fiction title, SECOND CHANCES, in July 2012. Babs is a contributor to two CUP OF COMFORT anthologies. She blogs about autism, writing and life at awalkabout.wordpress.com, and spent seven years of her career as a news reporter and editor in South Florida. Her romances/womens fiction books are published under the pen name Alana Lorens, and her fantasy/sci-fi under the pen name LyndiAlexander.