Granny

Day 8

September 9, 2024

Granny. Loved and adored by all she meets, 86 years young and as spunky as they get. A published author, mom, grandmother, great-grandmother, friend, and the list goes on and on. She had been my second mom as long as I can remember and I adore her.

Granny has been an important person in my life—my entire life. My family lived in the downstairs apartment of Granny and Papa’s home until I was 4. When we moved it was less than a half mile away. After “the move” one day Granny and Papa came to visit. Once their car rounded the bend my mom noticed that I was crying. “They didn’t wave,” I sobbed. She called them up and back into the car Granny and Papa went, back past the window, making sure to wave.

She was a constant in my life every day. From creating a “bus stop” safe haven, to caring for us home sick from school, to adopting our stray cat Junior, Granny was present. We got older, navigating relationships, went to college, and moved away, but that didn’t distance us.

Unlike Papa, Granny has always been a “small stuff sweater.” She can get herself into a panic over a misplaced set of keys, my mom (in her fifties) forgetting to call when she gets home, or when (duh, duh, duh) someone touches the MAC. Of all things, never touch the Macintosh computer. If you do, and anything goes wrong, you are labeled a “computer-breaker” and enter into a state of chaos until the homepage has been restored.

Despite this, Granny is the one you want to call when you have a REAL problem. A cancer diagnosis, a death in the family, or an injured child—here she is calm. It’s where she shines. I often tell my mom, Granny is so good in a crisis that if there isn’t one I think she creates one…I’m kidding, mostly. I will say that when life gets tough she is the one with the best advice and the most level-headed approach. Which is sometimes funny when you remember the time she was sure you were abducted from Walmart after not returning her call at age 38.

I started writing a book two years ago. If you know, you know. I’ve always been successful in my career and been a present and dedicated mom, but have faced quite a bit of turmoil in the past 7 years. I keep waiting for the hits to stop, for a moment of reprieve, but the second I regain my balance another wave knocks me off my feet. And there I am, disoriented, underwater, choking, all over again.

Part of it is relating to poor decision-making or being overly forgiving—but a lot of it was also impossible to anticipate and in turn to avoid. The other part seemed like God wanting to get my attention, to slow me down, or to bring me back to my faith. I’ve always been a Christian, was baptized at a young age, and have prayed ever since I can remember. I have remained steadfast in my love for God but not exactly, well, present. Life got in the way. School, tutoring, dinner, sports, doctor’s appointments, bath time, grocery shopping, books, bedtime, car maintenance, family outings—the list just goes on and on. Kids got sick, we got sick, and the weekends stacked up with tasks before they even begun.

The trauma was real. The pain was real. But there was no time to cry, no time to process, no time to recover. Because life was happening and things needed to be done. Teeth brushed, tummies tickled, vacations taken, both the everyday things and the things you wanted your kids to take from their childhood. It wasn’t enough existing, you really wanted them to LIVE. So, you took a deep breath, shook it off, and moved forward.

You can bury the trauma, but you can’t eliminate it, not without work. It’s tangible. Almost more difficult to withstand than physical pain.

This can’t be what God has meant for my life.  My babies lives.  At this moment I pray to God, “Make a way where there is no way.”  Granny’s favorite prayer. 

Baby steps.  Get dressed.  Make a coffee.  Drag yourself to work.  Life is too much to think about, next month, next year.  All I can do is make it through one moment and then the next.  I pray that God will carry me, because it is very clear that I am unable to make it alone.

“Make a way where there is no way.”

My grandmother always said God answers prayers, but he might not always do it in the way you expect.

This was it. “A way where there was no way.” Because of this spinal surgery, I was now blessed with the gift of time. Time to read, time to write, time to reflect, time to heal. My prayers were heard, and answered in the ways of the Lord.

Sometimes I know she doesn’t think I’m listening, but I am. Love you Granny. 💜