Grandchildren
"...for to such belongs the kingdom of God." (Luke 18:17)
This is the season of birthdays in our family. Our two sons were born in February, which made for some pretty lively indoor birthday parties when they were growing up. Their birthdates are calmer now, but they are still dates when we count the greatest blessings of our life: the people in our family. Christopher, a gifted writer, divides his time between editing Communities magazine and tending to the garden that feeds his own environmental education community. Michael, who began violin in second grade, never stopped: he is now a professional musician, playing for the New York City Ballet, delighting his musician/balletomane parents. He and his cellist wife have contributed two more jewels to our family's treasure chest of blessings: Gabriel, 6, and Anna, 4. So, like the Biblical writers who began their writings with a geneological table, I begin this meditation with these people who not only share our genes but also enhance our lives and continue to teach us something about the kingdom of God.
Bob and I spent the week after Christmas with our son Michael and his family. During that time, I received a compliment that I will never forget, when four-year-old Anna confided to me, “Nana, you are like a children, because you like to play dollhouse .” Since this statement was made the week after Anna and Gabriel had spent the greater part of one morning unwrapping Christmas gifts, her comment reminded me that the greatest gift we can give Anna’s generation has nothing to do with wrapping paper and ribbons; instead, it is our presence in their lives.
I remember my own grandmothers very well; both grandfathers died early deaths, so I never really got to know them. My maternal grandmother, in particular, enchanted us by taking us on walks in the woods, telling us where the ‘fairies’ lived (under toadstools, of course), and giving me a sense of the mystery and beauty in nature that I have never outgrown. Every year at this time, I remember that she taught us how to cut valentine hearts out of paper, complete with kissing love-birds perched on top. She made doll-clothes for my large family of dolls from my outgrown clothes, miniature copies of the dresses that were special to me, such as my favorite blue velvet party frock with the lace collar. I loved visiting her house in the Pennsylvania countryside, playing in the barn and the field, pumping ice-cold water from the pump outside the kitchen door and – yes– using the outhouse. We loved “grandma’s house” unconditionally.
I relived this childhood memory when, on one of Gabriel’s early visits, he was so excited to be back in Oberlin that he jumped up and down in our living room, saying repeatedly, “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!” This is one of the “non-wrapped gifts” we are able to offer our grandchildren:, another place to be, surrounded by love, in a setting that is different from their own.
Our presence, rather than our presents, whether they are here, or whether we are there, is our best legacy. Whenever I can fit a short visit into my professional travel itineraries, I do so, although Anna, like any doting granddaughter, always asks wistfully, “Where is Grandpa?” We both find it restorative (although sometimes exhausting) to enter into their lives.
As we spend time with Anna and Gabriel, our relationship grows through just being with them, as does our mutual love -- love that can be expressed in a variety of ways. When our family was gathered around the dining room table during the Christmas season playing a version of Monopoly, Anna, at four, was not quite up to the math, so she and I were partners. Bob, to our left, was heard to complain that he was near bankruptcy. In an instant, my small but compassionate business partner disappeared under the table, crawled to the “bank” and came back with a wad of $100 "bills," which the little thief handed to her Grandpa. Antics like this become family legends, cementing the family through stories that continue to evoke chuckles. When I put the grandchildren to bed, they always ask me to tell them a story “about when I was a little girl” – exactly what I used to ask my mother and grandmothers as well. I suspect that this one about the precocious bank thief will amuse us all for decades, and that the thief herself and certainly her brother will tell it to their children.
Lack of biological grandchildren does not necessarily mean that anyone needs to be “childless.” Before we had grandchildren, not only did I teach young children music and dance, but I also made a special effort to become friends with specific small children. I discovered then that the “grandchild role” can be taken very well by nieces, nephews, and the children of friends and neighbors, for every child can use an extra grandparent or two; it is a win-win situation. I had a long-time e-mail correspondence with the grandchild of a friend (his “real” grandmother acted as his amanuensis, typing verbatum everything he dictated, including those wonderful toddler past tenses (I goed, we swimmed...), and sharing the information that she had a bottle of shampoo in the shower that "made her hair turn gold.") Letters or e-mail are a good idea for anyone whose grandchildren or “grand-friends” are far away– although using “Skype” and actually seeing the other person takes this to an altogether new and wonderful level. I recently met young Kento, the Japanese grandchild of a seminary classmate, "face to face" in this way.
The children I befriended early in my life prepared me to enter the new kingdom" of biological grandparenting. When Anna said, “Nana, you are like a children,” she had noticed how much I loved entering her world. When Jesus taught that we needed to become like children to enter God's kingdom, he was reminding his hearers that they needed to recapture the wonder, dependence, and creativity that God had planted within them at birth.
"Becoming like a children" might be a good Lenten resolution, in fact. It would mean a rather untraditional spiritual discipline: taking time to observe -- and also to join in -- the play of those much younger than we are. We'll rediscover our own younger selves in the process, whatever our age We'll find new life and liveliness, as we remember Jesus' words about childhood and finally discover their meaning for us, for, indeed, of such is the kingdom of heaven.
Nancy Roth
