A Grandmother by Any Other Name

 Two of my grandchildren called me today. One called with a broken heart, crying. We had a lengthy conversation about life and God and people in general. We agreed on a lot and listened to one another's differing views where we didn't agree. After we hung up, I thought about how incredibly blessed I am to have a grandchild that consistently turns to me just to connect. Sometimes, it's because she wants to check in on me, sometimes she needs a little help or advice. Often, I think, she just wants to hear my voice and all the comforting familiarity that brings. I feel the same way about her. Having my grandchild reach out not because she has to but because she wants to or needs to, centers me in this crazy, messed-up world we live in. It brings me back to what really matters in life. It brings me back to relationship with another human being. A very special one I get to call one of my own.

Hours later, another grandchild called. He needed to FaceTime with me as he had something very important to show me. He was in the gym and could now bench-press something like a million tons and wanted to make sure I could see the proof in living color. As I watched him, all I could see was that sweet, fat, baby boy that use to sleep on my chest. My heart almost explodes when I look at this wonderful kid, remembering the smell of his brand-new baby skin. After watching him flex his muscles for me and show off his six-pack, I was a little glad I wasn't smelling him at the moment. Even so, I'm pretty grateful to have a teenage grandson that finds me worthy of his speed dial. 

Those phone calls reminded me to get everyone's Valentines in the mail. We have 13 grandchildren and no one must go without a proper Valentine surprise from Nona and Papa Pa, Nono and Papa or Grandma and Papa. This is what happens when you think its a good idea for the grandkids to name you whatever they want and then you have several litters of them. Regardless, all Valentines are safely on the way. Even to the two small grandsons that have decided Nono Poopie Head is not only hilarious to say but seems to suit me quite well. Whatever, dudes. I've been called worse.

I love being a grandparent. I'm a pretty good one. How could I not be? Look at my example. 

Bernice Corina Casas aka Grandma, hamming it up as usual. Um, what's with the glasses though? 

There could not have been a better grandmother on this planet than my mother. She was amazing to watch in action and her grandchildren adored her because of it. They all still do, even 18 years after her passing.

When I first became a grandmother, almost 21 years ago, I was beyond excited but I was also terrified. My greatest fear was that I would not be able to live up to what I had seen in my mother with her grandchildren. The day after Addee Mae was born, I called my mom to tell her she was a great-grandma. She was thrilled and needed all the details. As I filled her in, I started to cry. Now, let me just tell you, my mom was not very touchy-feely with me. She was more of a quit your crying and get in there and get things done kind of mom. So, when she asked me what was wrong, I was embarrassed to admit the truth at first. After some dodging, I finally told her I was afraid I wouldn't be very good at this grandma thing. I will never forget her response.

"Marla, don't be ridiculous. You're just like me. You'll be great."

Those words made all the difference. Thanks, Mom. I am just like you.