The Gift of Grandmothers

My husband and I have very similar stories when we reminisce about childhood memories of our grandmas. He never met either of mine and I had the pleasure of knowing and loving only his maternal grandmother.

However, all four of our parents had moms who spoiled their grandchildren by filling their bellies, ignoring slight misbehaviors and offering favoritism to whomever showed the most spunk.

Rules were always a little different at Grandma’s. We could stay up a little later, we could eat a little sweeter and we could play a little rougher. Manners still mattered but faults fast forgiven.

My mom loves being a mom but I don’t think she has ever loved anything more than being a grandma. And I’m quite sure my mother-in-law feels the same.

They both make their best efforts to follow the rules set by their children, but the love they feel for their grandchildren is so immense, so powerful and so abundant that it’s nearly impossible to explain to them that any limits can be set on the affections, the gifts, the favors and goodness they impart on their grandchildren.

And when our dear, sweet moms, who raised us to be the parents that we are, lost their beautiful grand baby, they suffered a fate twice what we suffered.

Yes, we lost our baby. But they bear the burden of losing their baby’s baby and carry the weight of our pain as well as their own. And all they want to do is fix it. I know this because, as a mother, all I wanted to do was fix my baby.

But the most amazing part of all of this is they don’t have to fix it. Because our baby is ok. He is safe and happy and at peace. And our mothers taught us to be strong, and fearless and cling to each other in times of trouble. And they should be proud. And take solace in the fact that they are good mothers and amazing grandmothers.

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