Getting older sort of sucks. Yesterday, Rob and I moved some furniture around and you would have thought I was moving mountains. What happened to my body?
I am out of shape. I could blame it on the stress of dealing with Mallorie’s illness the past three years. I mean during her treatment, I gained weight, quit running, and lost all my drive at times.
Another reason getting older is no fun is you start losing people. I have one living grandparent left. And he is going through some rough stuff right now. It makes me sad. I miss my grandparents. I miss the traditions and the “glue” that held those traditions together.
I think about the times I would spend summers in Missouri splitting time between both sets of grandparents. I remember my grandpa and grandma York’s huge garden. I would sit and play in the dirt as my grandparents harvested the crop. Or how my cousin’s and I would run in circles through their house and get covered in ticks playing in the hills. Grandma would get so mad. My grandma loved animals and we would always come home with a new pet. My parents just loved that.
My grandma Williams loved Christmas. And as a kid, I looked forward to all the presents. I remember there was an adult tree in one room and a kid tree in the other. The house was filled with so much joy and laughter. And of course, my cousin’s and I could never sleep waiting to see what we had waiting for us under the tree. (Side note, when you get moved up to the adult tree, it’s not as fun.)
Now that I look back, those times weren’t about the presents, it was about family. Aunts and uncles piling in one house to enjoy each other and share stories. Great food and fellowship. Surprises and joy. That was what my grandma loved. I miss that so much.
Now that the older generation has gone home, going home for Christmas has faded. Freshed canned green beans are now store bought. And running through the house is annoying to me when my kids do it. Growing old stinks.
Now that family traditions are put on my shoulders, I see the thought and love my grandparents put into each and every holiday and occasion. It’s kind of stressful. And I suck at it. What I wouldn’t give at times to be that little girl going to Missouri to just be loved and spoiled.
I also get sad when I think about my parents having to deal with losing their parents. I was 7 years old when my grandpa York passed away. I don’t remember too much about that time, however, I do remember my grandpa very well. I just remember that being the first time I ever saw my dad cry.
Then when my grandma Williams passed away, I was an adult and saw my mom deeply sadden and hollow. I can’t help to think, where does she turn when she needs something because when I need things I reach out to my mom. But the family is strong and each year that passes it seems to get easier. And she is with Jesus and she is loving it.
My grandma York passed away this past year. I know this may sound awful, but I didn’t want to see her sick, so I didn’t go see her before she died. She was not herself and I didn’t want any memories of that because that was not my grandma. I can still hear her laughter and smell her amazing cooking. That is the grandma I remember.
As I reflect on my grandparents, I feel nothing but blessings and love. God picked an awesome family for me to be part of. I am thankful my grandparents taught me to love and to love God.
I guess I need to buck up and remember those special traditions and make them part of our family traditions. I am now the “glue”. But man what I wouldn’t give to be a kid for just one day. One summer day in Missouri.