If Not for You

Today was a day when I was surely in my element. It was a day of popsicles  dripping down bare chubby legs and sticky grape flavored hands in a hug around my neck. It was a day of three generations sharing pizza and topping it off with Shamrock shakes. I haven't been to McDonalds in years. Going through the drive -thru and then sitting three in a row in the back seat, one of us in a car seat, parked by a tree in the lot, making a mess - was just what I needed today. 

The warm weather continued to bring promise and hope and bubble chasing around the courtyard with the grandbaby. It is amazing how much fun 98 cents will buy.

The wee one and I even saw a squirrel dragging a flattened cardboard box that it stole from the recycling dumpster. The squirrel tried to tug it up a tree. It was a losing battle so it tore pieces off and took these up to what I am guessing was a nest. I felt a kinship with this creature, tending to something so important. Looking after the kiddles is what I do best.  If this is what I was put here for, then so be it. It was my grandest effort, this parenting, this grandparenting. It has brought me joy, immeasurable and I have never accomplished anything finer. 

Uncertainty still sits on my shoulders, but who can worry about financial issues and pending problems when there is a sandy-haired baby running after bubbles, giggling with each pop? I'll carry with me forever the look she gave me as she turned for more. It was adoration, without contemplation, it was joy at its purest and I was the most clever person in the world. And all I had to do was float bubbles in the air for her; only for her. 

Picking up the Petals

This is a flower from the bouquet that my youngest brought for me on Valentines Day. She had the roses in one hand, a Starbucks vanilla cappuccino in the other and managed to juggle some caramel creams too. All my favorite things. She hugged me and said, "You're my one true Valentine, mom." She is 18 years old. I tell you this so you will have an inkling of how lucky I am.

                             

                                                    

This is what was left of a rose from that very bouquet after my grandbaby, 17 months old, sniffed a little too heartily and cherished a little too mightily. "Oh", I said at the sight of petals at her feet, and this in her hand. "Star", she said, and so it was. My grandbaby handed me a star.

Since I have been blessed with this tiny new being in my life, I have actually begun to think, in many ways like a toddler again. So much is beautiful, the rocks we find and coo over, the petals at our feet that are are soft and veiny and hold life, still. And I marveled at the divine timing, this grandbaby coming just when I need her most. Just when I needed to be retaught, that rocks are beautiful, because, rocks it seems are about all that I can acquire now. And if flowers are in pieces, and petals lie at our feet, well, isn't that a wonder too? As the wee one has shown me today, when you pick up the pieces, you should  look, really look, at what you have. And then hold it dear. "Because stars fall from the heavens sometimes and miracles rise out of little things..."*

 


*This is from a quote that I have carried around with me since I was a teenager, the newsprint brown with age, and credited to anonymous. When googling it to find its maker, I found, of course,  that I was not the only one wondering. http://callmenurse.blogspot.com/2010/12/stars-fall-from-heaven-sometimes.html