I love grandmothers. I think I have mentioned this point before. I don't know why people have such bad impressions of growing old...some of the nicest people I have ever met are over 90 years old. I think that with age, comes wisdom...and that wisdom comes from life's lessons...some easy and some not so easy.
My husband's grandmother is ninety-two years old. She still has a garden...that by the way, is growing more nicely than mine....She still takes the subway to do all her grocery shopping....even though her family offers to take her...She still bakes fresh bread and cakes....and has the family holiday dinners at her house. She now, for the first time in her life, lives alone.
I had to take my sons to a school activity in town the other day. We would be driving by grandmother's house. It was a hectic day...and I was not sure if I would have time to stop and say hello. Happily, as the day came to a close, with no prior arrangements, my children and I were able to pay their great-grandmother a visit. After all the hellos and kisses my husband's grandmother led me to her kitchen. Smiling she pointed to a bowl she had prepared on the table. The bowl contained flour, butter and two eggs. Immediately, I recognized the ingredients.
Cookies...
and not just any cookies....
but my youngest son's favourites.
So I thought,"How did you know we were going to stop by? I didn't even know we would."
I have four children. My youngest one is almost eight years old. He has the energy of 20 children bundled up into one little body. Usually, noisy children and elderly do not mix. Though my husband's grandmother could focus on my son's flaws, she somehow manages to always miss them and instead sees the best in him.
She made her cookies and gave him a hug and said, "Do you know how much I love you." He hugged her back and looked her straight in the eyes and said, "I know. I love you, too."
She has taught me how to value what is important...and to look past the rest.
I love grandmothers.
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