Who am I?

What people say: 
My young son says I am a terrible driver.
My older son says I am a great cook.
My teenage daughter says I am a know-nothing.
My grown daughter says I am a genius.
My husband says I am a treasure. 
My mama says I am a brave heart.
My dad says I am a good praline maker. 

My grandson calls me the impostor. 
My sister says I am a talented writer. 
My doctor says I am overweight. 
My friend says I am gifted. 
My club friends say I am bossy. 
My granddaughter says I am an artist. 
Mr. Tate says I am a poet.
God says I am his daughter. 
Who am I? 


Answer: 
I am a mom.
I am a wife. 
I am a daughter. 
I am a grandma. 
I am a sister.
I am a friend. 
I am a unique individual.
I am me.


Who am I?

What people say: 
My young son says I am a terrible driver.
My older son says I am a great cook.
My teenage daughter says I am a know-nothing.
My grown daughter says I am a genius.
My husband says I am a treasure. 
My mama says I am a brave heart.
My dad says I am a good praline maker. 

My grandson calls me the impostor. 
My sister says I am a talented writer. 
My doctor says I am overweight. 
My friend says I am gifted. 
My club friends say I am bossy. 
My granddaughter says I am an artist. 
Mr. Tate says I am a poet.
God says I am his daughter. 
Who am I? 


Answer: 
I am a mom.
I am a wife. 
I am a daughter. 
I am a grandma. 
I am a sister.
I am a friend. 
I am a unique individual.
I am me.


A Baby Born

Dear Mama,

This week I was the grandma. I rushed to Audra’s house to keep the children while she gave birth to another little one. This time she was experiencing a slow labor with long gaps in the pain. The work was worrisome. The hours passed slowly. Eventually, the contractions picked up and soon my third daughter was birthing her third daughter.

As the baby was born to us and we saw her little self all wet and soft, we realized the awesome power of life, and at the same moment felt the complete helplessness that defines us as humans. The baby girl was well prepared for her earthly journey. God built into her all that she would need to survive her lifetime. Her heart, her lungs, her stomach and internal organs, her skin and hair, her brain, and even her ears and eyes would  make her able to grow, walk, read, talk, explore, and work in her spot on the planet.

Yet, we could do nothing for her except to love her and make her comfortable. We could not guarantee her to be strong and well. We had not given her breath or made her blood flow through the arteries and veins.We could not keep her alive if God deemed otherwise.

It is hard to be the grandma knowing what I know now. I know that this new baby’s infant days will pass quickly and that before her parents can imagine it, she will grow into a toddler and then a little child twirling in the center of the living room showing off her pink dress ruffles to Daddy. In a few more months (or so it seemed to me) she will turn thirteen, and a few minutes later go off to college and/or head down the aisle as a bride. Before long, she will be calling her Mama to come assist with her own baby’s introduction into the world.

My girl will try, as I did, and as you did with your brood to make them happy and healthy. She will try to never miss a day of fun and learning. To make every day count, but time marches unmercifully on.

I helped my daughter and I watched her suffer and strain and I saw the tears of exhaustion turn to tears of joy at the sight of her precious baby. I was honored to be there. I was happy to be there, and terror stricken, and dismayed, all rolled into one grandmother.

I laughed. I cried. I hoped. I feared. And I thought of you, Mama, and how much I have always depended on you. How much I needed you and still do. I hope that I am as good a mama to each of my daughters as you have been to me.

Love Your Third Daughter,
Elece

 Audra with her new baby girl, Madison Louise.

A Baby Born

Dear Mama,

This week I was the grandma. I rushed to Audra’s house to keep the children while she gave birth to another little one. This time she was experiencing a slow labor with long gaps in the pain. The work was worrisome. The hours passed slowly. Eventually, the contractions picked up and soon my third daughter was birthing her third daughter.

As the baby was born to us and we saw her little self all wet and soft, we realized the awesome power of life, and at the same moment felt the complete helplessness that defines us as humans. The baby girl was well prepared for her earthly journey. God built into her all that she would need to survive her lifetime. Her heart, her lungs, her stomach and internal organs, her skin and hair, her brain, and even her ears and eyes would  make her able to grow, walk, read, talk, explore, and work in her spot on the planet.

Yet, we could do nothing for her except to love her and make her comfortable. We could not guarantee her to be strong and well. We had not given her breath or made her blood flow through the arteries and veins.We could not keep her alive if God deemed otherwise.

It is hard to be the grandma knowing what I know now. I know that this new baby’s infant days will pass quickly and that before her parents can imagine it, she will grow into a toddler and then a little child twirling in the center of the living room showing off her pink dress ruffles to Daddy. In a few more months (or so it seemed to me) she will turn thirteen, and a few minutes later go off to college and/or head down the aisle as a bride. Before long, she will be calling her Mama to come assist with her own baby’s introduction into the world.

My girl will try, as I did, and as you did with your brood to make them happy and healthy. She will try to never miss a day of fun and learning. To make every day count, but time marches unmercifully on.

I helped my daughter and I watched her suffer and strain and I saw the tears of exhaustion turn to tears of joy at the sight of her precious baby. I was honored to be there. I was happy to be there, and terror stricken, and dismayed, all rolled into one grandmother.

I laughed. I cried. I hoped. I feared. And I thought of you, Mama, and how much I have always depended on you. How much I needed you and still do. I hope that I am as good a mama to each of my daughters as you have been to me.

Love Your Third Daughter,
Elece

 Audra with her new baby girl, Madison Louise.

Dear Mama,

Mother’s Day is coming up and I was thinking about you even more than usual. When spring arrives and the flowers bloom, I recall Dad bringing you a huge bouquet of salmon pink gladiolas he had stopped and chosen from a local gardener. You put them in your tall gray pottery vase and set it in the sunlight in front of the picture window. It was spectacular!

When we lived in Michigan, you planted snapdragons and pansies in the flowerbeds along either side of the driveway. You have always been a flower lover. I know you would be thrilled to see the roses, irises, lilies and azaleas that I have blooming around my house now.

I have an old straw hat hanging on the wall that reminds me of you. I know you love straw hats, gardens, and the country life. You were an Oklahoma girl, growing up after the dust bowl years, the third eldest of a group of eight siblings. You loved farm life, riding horses, swimming in the creek, and walking in the fields. You loved your Uncle Stoney and Aunt Blanche from Tecumseh.

Be sure of the fact that I will be thinking of you next Sunday as we celebrate Mother’s Day.

Love you,

Elece

Dear Mama,

Mother’s Day is coming up and I was thinking about you even more than usual. When spring arrives and the flowers bloom, I recall Dad bringing you a huge bouquet of salmon pink gladiolas he had stopped and chosen from a local gardener. You put them in your tall gray pottery vase and set it in the sunlight in front of the picture window. It was spectacular!

When we lived in Michigan, you planted snapdragons and pansies in the flowerbeds along either side of the driveway. You have always been a flower lover. I know you would be thrilled to see the roses, irises, lilies and azaleas that I have blooming around my house now.

I have an old straw hat hanging on the wall that reminds me of you. I know you love straw hats, gardens, and the country life. You were an Oklahoma girl, growing up after the dust bowl years, the third eldest of a group of eight siblings. You loved farm life, riding horses, swimming in the creek, and walking in the fields. You loved your Uncle Stoney and Aunt Blanche from Tecumseh.

Be sure of the fact that I will be thinking of you next Sunday as we celebrate Mother’s Day.

Love you,

Elece