Beech Tree News Network

Have you ever seen the tee shirt that says: IF I’D KNOWN GRANDCHILDREN WERE SO MUCH FUN, I’D HAVE HAD THEM FIRST?  I need one of those. I’ve often told Garey that our granddaughter, Sabria, is much funnier than our children were, “and it’s not just that we have a better sense of humor now,” I add.  Recently, Garey responded to that comment.  “Sabria is allowed to be funny,” he said.  I was saddened by what he said, because I understood the implications: our children were not.  It wasn’t that we were particularly austere parents.  It was that we were parents, and as such the responsibility for training and direction for our children fell on our shoulders.  Even if you have a good sense of humor, that kind of pressure will stymie it.
    I wish our daughters had been able to grow up around their grandparents, but it was not to be.  My family is from just south of Louisville and Garey’s is from just north of Birmingham.  I didn’t grow up around my grandparents either.  Garey did, and I’ve always believed it is why he seems to have a more optimistic view of life than I do.  Grandparents are a refuge from the storm that is the overwhelmed parent.  They bring calm to chaos.
    Many times, I’ve said to Sabria, “Calm down.  The world is not going to end.”  To which she responds, “Yes it is, Gee!  It’s going to end!”  Eventually, she relents and stops crying, and everything is set aright again.
    Grandparents possess skills that can only be learned in the trenches of parenthood.  These skills include the ability to put things into perspective and the ability to explain the world around them.  Because I have a job that allows me to be in contact with people from many walks of life, I’ve met some awesome grandparents, and do they have stories to tell.
    Steve arrived early one morning to report his little granddaughter had given the cat a bath before seven a.m. and he didn’t even know the cat was dirty.
    Mary was preparing her agenda for an upcoming Bible School class, when her granddaughter informed her she already knew everything there was to know about the Bible.  “The shark ate Jonah and Lazarus was dead for four days, and then he came back,” she said.  (Actually, she had a pretty good handle on Christian theology: If you run from God, you’ll get yourself in trouble; but if you trust God, you will be given new life.  That’s pretty much it in a nutshell.”
    Donna took her young granddaughter to visit the graves of her great grandparents.  After they had been there a bit, the granddaughter said, “Let’s dig em up!”  Donna explained they weren’t there anymore, they were in Heaven with Jesus.  “Jesus has their hearts,” Donna said.
    “He took their hearts!” the little girl said in disbelief.
    “No, he didn’t take their hearts,” Donna said, “They’re just…you know what, maybe you should talk to your mother about this.”
    “Maybe, they’ll come up in the spring,” her granddaughter said, looking around at the array of flowers that had done just that this past spring.
    Grandparents allow things parents don’t always allow. Vickie made the comment in front of her granddaughter that she was thinking about getting a new car.  “Please don’t get a new car,” her granddaughter pleaded, “Mama won’t let me eat in her car, and yours is the only one I’m allowed to do that in.”  Vickie continues to drive her older car, because that’s what grandparents do.  We allow more, and play more and laugh more.
    On Saturday evening, I was setting out tomato plants in the garden, when Sabria came walking down in my flip flops.  “I didn’t feel like putting my tennis shoes on,” she explained. 
    “I don’t mind,” I said.  “What do you need little Bee?” I asked.  (BB is my nickname for Sabria.  It stands for Bumble Bee, and I sometimes shorten it to simply Bee.)
    “I need Bee and Gee time,” she said.
    “I’m nearly finished,” I told her.  “We’ll go to the house together.”
    We walked back up the hill, me in my old tennis shoes, her in my flip flops.  Work time was over.  It was Bee and Gee time.