I am EXTREMELY low-maintenance. So much so that I often joke about having my girl card revoked; though I would gladly hand it over willingly. I am sure my poor husband would like someone that was comfortable in heels and gel nails but that just isn't me. I dabble occasionally in both but I can't commit. There is just no amount of heel that can make these legs look any better and I am too cheap to keep up with fake nails and pedicures. Even so, almost daily-he calls me "Pretty Girl". You have got to love a guy like that.
There are a few things in my life that I am fairly O.C.D. about. Almost superstitious (if I believed in that at all…) One is my house. It has to be clean and orderly. I am not proud of that; in fact I wasted much of my kid's childhood making sure it looked just so. Just this week, I had a stomach virus and I was so upset because I was supposed to clean the bathrooms that day. Brian just kept telling me to "stay put" (which means either in bed or on the couch) T-O-R-T-U-R-E for someone who can barely watch T.V. without their Kindle in their hand. Only one day. That is all I can allow myself to be sick. I told you I was messed up.
The other two take much less time but don't let that fool you. They are equally as important as my housework. One is my coffee cup and the other is a light made out of my Grandma's funeral flowers that my Aunt Cynda bought for me when my grandmother passed away. I need both of them in working order, every day 24/7. Please and thank you.
The coffee cup was given to me by one of our adopted children, Rachel.. Or Rachie- as she begrudgingly lets me call her J Rachel was and is a dear and good friend to my daughter Cherith; her Mama to me and her Dad to my husband. We had lots of good times together when they lived in Indiana. We lost her dad to cancer a few years ago and the family moved to Washington State. The cup is just the right size and makes me think about Rachel and all my other adopted kids and the connection I have with each one of them. If I can't find my cup… I am in a slight panic. I usually hand wash it every day when I am done so it is ready the next time I need it (which could honestly be in a matter of hours depending on the day…) Can you say French Press?? Anyway- at times it ends up in the bedroom or bathroom which sends me on a semi-frantic hunt but I find it and everything is Zen again. Brian doesn't touch it. No-sir. It is really girly anyway, thank goodness.
The light is a different kind of security for me. This past week it started flickering. It sits within my sight, were I start every day, reflecting and reading my bible. When I noticed it was flickering, I went over and touched the bulb and it came back on. This went on for a couple days. Until today I finally replaced the bulb. I started thinking this week about the light dying for good. I mean, how long can a light like that last? It is basically flowers from my Grandmother's funeral pressed in wax in sort of a candle shape but instead of a wick there is a light bulb in the middle that glows through the wax. It is not very complicated really and Brian can fix just about everything… so I am trying not to worry about it. It is just that when I see it, I think about her. Just like my Rachie and the coffee cup.
She was such a light in my life. She and my grandpa both were. I had such great examples of grandparents. I strive to give my little "grand-brood" what they gave to me- unconditional love, self-worth, confidence, a safe place to just be me. Whenever I kiss Leah a thousand times every Monday and tell her I love her- I think of my Grandma kissing me over and over and calling me: "Grandma's Doll Baby". When Lucy runs in the house yelling, "GRANDMA!!" and runs past everyone else in the room to B-Line for my arms, I remember doing the same with them. When they were in the room, no one else was. And when I was in the room, they were a devoted audience. I want to give that same love and devotion to my grandchildren.
The other day, Cherith and I were driving to Indy to see the house that they ended up eventually buying, and we were chatting on and on like we tend to do. Sage, her 23 month old- was in the back seat singing louder and louder because we weren't paying any attention to her. Cherith was glancing in the mirror off and on like she often does in "Mommy-mode" checking on Sage; then she looked at me with a huge grin on her face. "Mom," she said, "Look at Sage." I turned around and looked at my little Roo. I can't even describe the look of sheer contentment on her face. She was smiling at us, looking from Cherith's face to mine. Perfect happiness. Perfect joy; just to be in the moment with her Mama and her Gigi. When I looked at my girl, Cherith she had tears in her eyes and her hand over her heart. "Don't you just love her Mommy??" she exclaimed breathlessly. "Isn't she just the cutest? Sometimes I think I could just die looking at that face.. I just love her so much." I will never forget that moment. I wish I could freeze it. I do know just how Cherith feels. For one: I feel it every time I look at her, and two: I could just die looking at Sage's little face. I know now why my grandmother loved me so. I know why she wanted me to call her and spend the night and talk to her and sing my songs and play at her feet. She was soaking me up every time I was with her like a big sponge. She knew it goes by so fast. Lucy our oldest granddaughter is 4 1/2, Sage is almost 2 and Leah is 1 and I swear it happened in a blink. Or maybe more like a flicker. Just like the bulb in my grandmother's light-a warning to not get too comfortable. A flicker to remind us that something is changing-almost used up. But unlike the small bulb- their childhood is not replaceable.
I ask her sometimes if she is watching from heaven; to help me be a good GiGi to these girls. I wish she could see them and sink them into bathtubs full of bubbles, leave lipstick on their cheeks and fix them fried chicken and dippy eggs, like she did me. But since she isn't, I am glad that I can give them a piece of her each time I do those things. To some I may seem preoccupied with my grandchildren. That's okay- I was preoccupied with their mom and dads too. I refuse to be an unintentional grandparent and I will do my best to not let one flicker go unnoticed.
I have huge shoes to fill you know;… I don't even own one tube of red lipstick.
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