Quite a confirmation.
Yesterday, I got a message from the chief of police's wife. I know her as a casual friend. We've never hung out - never even went to lunch. She sent me an article she read. Of course it's not written about me as I am very much alive but the fact that she said it reminded her of me and my relationship with my grandkids made me very happy. As I read and cried my way through it, I thought how accurately this lady had figured out her mother in law. I hope my own kids realize my motives are pure and my love unending and as wide as the east is to the west. I hope that my own children feel the same way about me. The note read...
Perri, your kids and grand babies will have awesome memories of their totally cool mamaw!!! You set the bar high for other grandparents. Before I really knew you, I use to wonder about ya. Knowing you personally now, I have a tremendous amount of respect for you and the love you have for your family. After reading it, I thought of my parents and YOU!! What awesome memories you are making with your family. You are doing something right girl!!! You rock Perri!!!
And the article is below.
You stole my thunder. You gave them everything they wanted. You never said no to anything.
A second helping of dessert. Candy before dinner. A few more minutes in the bathtub. Money for the ice cream truck.
How I struggled to show you respect and appreciation while trying to make sure you didn't spoil my children. I thought you would turn them into selfish brats by giving them everything they wanted. I thought they might never learn to wait, to take turns, to share, because you granted their wishes as soon as they opened their mouths or pointed.
You held my babies long after they fell asleep. Didn't you understand I needed them to learn how to fall asleep on their own.
You ran to them as soon as they made the tiniest sounds. Didn't you know I needed them to learn how to soothe themselves?
I resented you for buying them the best and most expensive gifts on Christmas and their birthdays. How can I possibly compete with you? How do you think it feels, knowing that the very best presents, the ones they will be most excited about and like the best don't come from their parents?
And how they loved afternoons spent with you. You made their favorite things for dinner -- three different meals for three different boys. And you always had a little surprise. A present, candy or a special treat. I didn't want them to associate you with gifts and sweets. I thought they should love you for you. TI tried to tell you this but you wouldn't listen. You continued to indulge them in every way possible.
I spent a lot of time wondering why you did all these things and how I could get you to ease up. I know that grandparents are supposed to "spoil" the grandkids and then send them home, but you were... ridiculous.
Until you were gone.
I had to hold my boys and tell them that their grandma died. It didn't seem possible -- you were supposed to be there for all the other special moments; proms, graduations, weddings. But they lost their grandma to soon and too suddenly. They were not ready to say goodbye to you.
During those years when I wished you'd stop spoiling them, I never thought about how much you loved them. So much that you showed it in every way possible. Your cooking. The gifts. The candy and sweets. your presence. They way you could recount every detail of a special moment whether it was a perfect catch in the outfield or a sweet and slightly off key note sung at a school concert. Your grandmotherly love for them knew no bounds. Your heart poured love from every place possible -- your kitchen, your pocketbook, your words and your tireless arms.
It's pointless to dwell on regrets, but I often think about how I had it all wrong. I was so wrong in how I perceived our generosity. My kids, now in their teens, miss you dearly. And they don't miss your fits or your money. They miss you. They miss running to greet you at the door and hugging you before you could even step in. They miss looking at the bleachers and seeing you, one of their biggest fans, smiling and enthralled to catch their eye. They miss talking to you and hearing your words of wisdom, encouragement and love.
If I could speak to you one more time, I would tell you that every time a precious moment steals my heart, every time I watch them arrive at a new milestone, every time they amaze me with their perseverance talents or triumphs, I think of you. And I wish they could have you back.
Come back and love them one last time, like no one else in the world but a grandmother could. Bring your sweets and surprises. Reward them with gifts for the smallest accomplishments. Painstakingly prepare their favorite meals. take them anywhere they want to go. All and only because you love them.
Oh, how I wish with my whole heart that you could come back.
Sit for endless hours in the bleachers with me. Come back and watch his determined stance, his all out effort and his anxious rituals. We could study my boy's face, and both know without at doubt if he's confident, intimidated, thirsty or bored.
Come back and listen to the sound of his saxophone, and watch his face with me. We both know which songs are his favorite just by studying his eyes while he plays. Watch him with me as he shifts in his seat, makes eye contact with friends and sigs with relief after the end of each song.
Come back and hear his voice as the bellowing bass in the high school choir. Delight in how he sings with his whole heart and soul. His green eyes bright with passion, then gently closed for the longer notes.
I could glance your way and know that no one adores him quite like you or me.
Come back and watch him walk in his cap and gown. Watch the wind blow his hair away from his face, and be awestruck with me as we glimpse the man he is becoming. Stand with me as we, without a word exchanged, simultaneously wonder how the years tumbled by so fast.
The more I long for you to come back, the more I realize in a way, you never left.
I understand now. I know you loved them in every way you could. I know that being their grandma gave you joy and purpose. And of course I know that you can't come back, but I do know that you love for them will remain. Always. our love built them and sheltered them in ways that cannot be described. Your love is a big part of who they are and what they will become as they grow. For this, and for every treat and gift, and every time you held them too long or consoled them too much, or let them stay up too late, I will always thank you.
And I will wish a million times that you could do it all again.
How I struggled to show you respect and appreciation while trying to make sure you didn't spoil my children. I thought you would turn them into selfish brats by giving them everything they wanted. I thought they might never learn to wait, to take turns, to share, because you granted their wishes as soon as they opened their mouths or pointed.
You held my babies long after they fell asleep. Didn't you understand I needed them to learn how to fall asleep on their own.
You ran to them as soon as they made the tiniest sounds. Didn't you know I needed them to learn how to soothe themselves?
I resented you for buying them the best and most expensive gifts on Christmas and their birthdays. How can I possibly compete with you? How do you think it feels, knowing that the very best presents, the ones they will be most excited about and like the best don't come from their parents?
And how they loved afternoons spent with you. You made their favorite things for dinner -- three different meals for three different boys. And you always had a little surprise. A present, candy or a special treat. I didn't want them to associate you with gifts and sweets. I thought they should love you for you. TI tried to tell you this but you wouldn't listen. You continued to indulge them in every way possible.
I spent a lot of time wondering why you did all these things and how I could get you to ease up. I know that grandparents are supposed to "spoil" the grandkids and then send them home, but you were... ridiculous.
Until you were gone.
I had to hold my boys and tell them that their grandma died. It didn't seem possible -- you were supposed to be there for all the other special moments; proms, graduations, weddings. But they lost their grandma to soon and too suddenly. They were not ready to say goodbye to you.
During those years when I wished you'd stop spoiling them, I never thought about how much you loved them. So much that you showed it in every way possible. Your cooking. The gifts. The candy and sweets. your presence. They way you could recount every detail of a special moment whether it was a perfect catch in the outfield or a sweet and slightly off key note sung at a school concert. Your grandmotherly love for them knew no bounds. Your heart poured love from every place possible -- your kitchen, your pocketbook, your words and your tireless arms.
It's pointless to dwell on regrets, but I often think about how I had it all wrong. I was so wrong in how I perceived our generosity. My kids, now in their teens, miss you dearly. And they don't miss your fits or your money. They miss you. They miss running to greet you at the door and hugging you before you could even step in. They miss looking at the bleachers and seeing you, one of their biggest fans, smiling and enthralled to catch their eye. They miss talking to you and hearing your words of wisdom, encouragement and love.
If I could speak to you one more time, I would tell you that every time a precious moment steals my heart, every time I watch them arrive at a new milestone, every time they amaze me with their perseverance talents or triumphs, I think of you. And I wish they could have you back.
Come back and love them one last time, like no one else in the world but a grandmother could. Bring your sweets and surprises. Reward them with gifts for the smallest accomplishments. Painstakingly prepare their favorite meals. take them anywhere they want to go. All and only because you love them.
Oh, how I wish with my whole heart that you could come back.
Sit for endless hours in the bleachers with me. Come back and watch his determined stance, his all out effort and his anxious rituals. We could study my boy's face, and both know without at doubt if he's confident, intimidated, thirsty or bored.
Come back and listen to the sound of his saxophone, and watch his face with me. We both know which songs are his favorite just by studying his eyes while he plays. Watch him with me as he shifts in his seat, makes eye contact with friends and sigs with relief after the end of each song.
Come back and hear his voice as the bellowing bass in the high school choir. Delight in how he sings with his whole heart and soul. His green eyes bright with passion, then gently closed for the longer notes.
I could glance your way and know that no one adores him quite like you or me.
Come back and watch him walk in his cap and gown. Watch the wind blow his hair away from his face, and be awestruck with me as we glimpse the man he is becoming. Stand with me as we, without a word exchanged, simultaneously wonder how the years tumbled by so fast.
The more I long for you to come back, the more I realize in a way, you never left.
I understand now. I know you loved them in every way you could. I know that being their grandma gave you joy and purpose. And of course I know that you can't come back, but I do know that you love for them will remain. Always. our love built them and sheltered them in ways that cannot be described. Your love is a big part of who they are and what they will become as they grow. For this, and for every treat and gift, and every time you held them too long or consoled them too much, or let them stay up too late, I will always thank you.
And I will wish a million times that you could do it all again.
