<\/p>\n
We live next door to my paternal grandmother. Literally,
\nnext door. When I look out the kitchen window, I can usually tell where she is.
\nIf the blinds are drawn in her bedroom–she’s still asleep. If the light is on
\nin the living room, I know she’s perched in her wing chair, cell phone and home
\nphone and Tivo contol all within reach. Sometimes I see the tuft of white hair
\non the screened in porch. <\/p>\n
She’s almost 84 years old. She doesn’t drive anymore, and
\nshe walks with a cane. Her body hurts, and she’s dependent upon other people
\nfor many daily tasks. She might need help changing a light bulb or getting the
\nmail or opening the windows. I even escorted her to the Emergency Room in the
\nmiddle of the night one time this summer.<\/p>\n
Almost every day, Penny says to me, “I want to go see May
\nMay.” She walks over to her great-grandmother’s house, and they sit together
\nand talk and read books and snuggle. It gives me time to make a meal with only
\none child underfoot, or to sit with William and put together his incredibly intricate
\nPlaymobile truck, or, if William’s asleep, to get some work done. <\/p>\n
What’s even more incredible is that my mother’s parents live
\n\u00bd mile away for the month of August. My grandfather just turned 90. My
\ngrandmother is 88. She’s still spry and takes a regular morning walk and complains
\nabout wrinkles but doesn’t show many other effects of aging. But he’s had a
\nrough go of it lately, and he’s ended up with a walker and a body that doesn’t
\nwant to comply.<\/p>\n
Our children love playing with them just as they love seeing
\ntheir May May. We’ve spent recent mornings outside with them, throwing a ball.
\n(Well, William scrambled around and Penny threw the ball.) When it is time to
\ngo, Penny asks, “May I stay here with Nana Nana and Geeka all by myself?” <\/p>\n
I’ve been trying to figure out what it is about these
\nrelationships that strikes me as so special. The cross-generational ties, of
\ncourse. Passing along my own relationship with my grandparents to my children. But
\nwhat stands out even more is the fact that theirs is a relationship of giving
\nand receiving, not of obligation. Penny is not required to visit her poor frail
\nelderly great-grandparents. Rather, she leaps at the chance to see them. They
\naren’t forced into babysitting. They love the life and laughter and simplicity
\nthat children bring. There is mutuality, reciprocity, gifts given, from the
\nfour-year old to the ninety-year old and back again. <\/p>\n
So beyond the significance of four generations of family enjoying one another, this strikes me as important because it embodies the most important aspect of human existence. That’s what life is all
\nabout–love, given and received, across the boundaries of age and ability. When
\nI grow up, I want to be like them.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
We live next door to my paternal grandmother. Literally, next door. When I look out the kitchen window, I can usually tell where she is. If the blinds are drawn in her bedroom–she’s still asleep. If the light is on in the living room, I know she’s perched in her wing chair, cell phone and…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":88,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-353","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-family"],"yoast_head":"\n