Sunday was grandparent’s day. A day I should always remember because my kids have some of the best grandparents. Ever.
And because life is busy, I neglected to even remember the day until later that evening.
My son was actually born on Grandparent’s Day in September of 2007. He was a small guy, but I remember hearing how the nurse went out to tell the grandparents and when she said “11:11” my mom was a little worried—she thought weight—not time.
Caden was 6 pounds and 14 ounces, and his middle name is that of my father.
I can’t think of a more touching tribute to a man who is so loving, so compassionate, and especially fond of his grandchildren.
After doing a little research on this particular day, Grandparent’s Day, I found this…
*There are three purposes for Grandparent’s day.
- To honor grandparents.
- To give grandparents an opportunity to show love for their children’s children.
- To help children become aware of the strength, information, and guidance older people can offer.
*from the Legacy Project.
Reading that made me think of my own grandparents, on my father’s side. If you knew either one of them, Jack and Wilma, you knew kindness. My grandfather was funny. He had a good sense of humor. Some of my fondest memories spent with him were eating ice cream in the evenings (vanilla with chocolate syrup) and dancing (while standing on his feet) to the Lawrence Welk Show.
My grandma had a little sass. You made sure to mind your manners and always be respectful around her. Her sweet tea would make McAlister’s or McDonald’s look really bad. Some of my best memories with her are trips to Quatro’s after her chemo (because she insisted that was the only thing that she could eat). She was able to spend time with Kirsten, spoiling her rotten, and I’m so grateful for that.
If you think about it, grandparents are a tie to the past. Now, my kids can sit and listen to my dad tell stories about his childhood, his brothers, his parents—and those are stories and memories that are so precious, ones that I hope they never forget, and ones that I will more than likely retell myself.
Some of us may have surrogate grandparents, those who have stepped in to fill a void, or fill a loss of a grandparent. I’ve often said to some friends (about those who could be a surrogate grandparent) “oh man, I’d love for (insert name here) to be my grandpa!” Friends of ours may have their grandparents, who in turn may become “our” grandparents, and once again, we have a connection to the past.
Grandparents are free to love and pass on their legacies, feed your children really good snacks, pick them up from school, take them to school, nurture, educate, and sometimes provide guidance, mentoring, and give us unconditional love.
I love hearing stories that connect me to relatives, especially those that I did not know. Grandparents are a connection to those moments, those photos, and those memories.
When people mention my grandparents I get a little emotional. I hear stories about how kind they were, how they loved bowling and good card games, and I long for another evening of ice cream and Lawrence Welk. I miss taking my Grandma to Quatro’s and hearing her laugh.
I’m blessed with many connections to them, and I’m thankful for the Grandparents near and far for my children.
