Ninety-one
I have chosen not to post an actual picture of my grandmother due to her fears of “going viral.”
My maternal grandmother celebrated her ninety-first birthday this week. She is a lively mixture of grit, introspection, and a wonderful sense of humor. Originally from Germany, her accent makes everything she says sound more compelling and hilarious. After knowing her for almost forty years she’s become one of my dearest friends (my other grandmother is as well!). She’s recently moved to a new home, and it’s been a challenging transition for her. Considering all the upheaval, she continuously tells us how thankful she is for her family and for how God has provided for her. She reminded me about twenty times today that she never intended to get this old, but God decides, and she doesn’t get a say. I always tell her how thankful we all are that she’s still around.
As I was on my way to see her at my parent’s house it dawned on me that my grandmother experienced being born on that actual day ninety-one years ago. I know, it sounds silly, but I suddenly realized that her mother experienced something I also experienced when she gave birth, and it connected me to my grandmother’s past in a whole new way. I don’t think I take enough time to truly percolate on the reality that at one time my grandmother wasn’t an adult but was instead a helpless baby who needed her mother to take care of her, in the same way, I was also a baby and needed constant care from my mother. At that moment all the old pictures I’d seen over the years became a movie of real life in my head. I pictured the infant version of my grandmother riding in my car like my own children have done before because she was at one time just as real, but as a baby herself. Sure, our overall experiences are dissimilar based on the periods we were born and the country we lived in, but there are also a thousand common threads that unite us even to this day. She was as much a child as my children; how cool is that?
Maybe I’ve been ignorant to a fact that everybody else in the world has already well figured out and accepted because I’m not a carefree person who enjoys the thought of getting older anyways. I likely haven’t wanted to let my mind go to these places. I tend to focus too much on the idea of aging by looking into the future, so I think this epiphany took me into the past in a helpful way. I struggle with a fear of aging, like most of us, but seeing her gracefully turn ninety-one has certainly taken the edge off the tension from my big number birthday that’s looming in July. Thinking about my grandmother as a young baby, child, teenager, and mom is a refreshing mental exercise that I hope to carry with me as I face my birthdays.
It’s a precious reminder that God created all the people around us, even the ones we may not like or don’t connect with. We’ve all entered the world in the same way (give or take various details), even if in a different decade or opposing parts of the world. God is in the details and He’s connecting all of us, even to Himself through His son, who also experienced all the same dynamic similarities. We should marvel that He would do such a thing for us while looking around to see the creativity of His work in each human being, no matter what their age may be. I’m beyond thankful for both my grandmothers who have loved me well and who continue to teach me a plethora of life lessons.
I am grateful to have TWO grandmothers who are still alive and very much involved in the lives of my children. I remind my children all the time that many children never get to know their great-grandparents like they’ve been able to. What a blessing to have two amazing women setting Godly examples for myself and my people.
