We don’t always realize what we’re teaching the next generation by the way we choose to live.
Our choices often reach much farther than we realize. Sometimes, the consequences of our choices don’t fall upon us at all. Instead, they can be carried by the generations that follow.
When you hear the word Grandma or Grandpa a warm fuzzy feeling should fill your heart. You should be able to believe if there were one person in this world who thought warmly of you, it would be your Grandma.
Life should offer everyone a warm and loving Grandma.
Someone who has time. Someone who listens without judgement. Someone who tells stories and fills your day with laughter. Someone who passes down the lessons of a lifetime.
For many grandparents, careers are finished, homes are established, and the busyness of raising children has passed. There is finally an opportunity to slow down and discover the beautiful new relationships that comes with little ones that follow.
For many, including myself, being a Grandparent is the role we wait the longest to experience, and perhaps the one we look forward to with the greatest anticipation. It is truly one of life’s most special gifts, unique and sacred. This is the time to pass forward a family’s faith, traditions, stories, wisdom, and love, allowing the new generations to flourish on a solid foundation.
That is how it should be.
But it isn’t that way for everyone.
It wasn’t that way for me.
My Grandparents
I adored my Papa.
Barely able to walk, I took great pride in “helping” my Papa change a tire. As I grew older, that feeling never changed.
I wanted to be near him whenever I had the opportunity. He was my Favorite Person.
Looking back now there were times when I stayed with my grandparents, visited for holidays, or just ran over to see him when we lived close. Each one of those times I remember him working in the yard, trying to stay busy. I would always try to find a purpose near him but couldn’t quite manage it.
Overall that was the total of our relationship. No shared walks. No long conversations about life. Nothing was shared about the wisdom he gained, where he failed, what he had overcome. I wasn’t told about who he loved nor what he had treasured. I know nothing about the life he lived before I came along. And very little about the life he lived after I was born.
And my Grandmother…I knew she was a wonderful cook. I knew she made fantastic fried chicken and always put out a beautiful spread during the holidays. But I don’t know her favorite color. I don’t know what moments she treasured. I don’t anything of valve about her.
They were busy with their own lives. Their priorities were wrapped up in the daily responsibilities, problems, and trials of their own world.
It wasn’t that they didn’t love me. It was that they didn’t see me as a continuation of their lives. I felt like a side item, a distraction, and many times in the way.
I remember being a young mother and placing my first baby girl on my grandfather’s lap. I remember the smile on his face. But there were no words of wisdom.
There was no, “As she grows older remember this…”
No, “Make sure to teach her that….”
No, “Whatever you do, don’t forget…”
Nothing was passed down. It was simply a fact that I had a baby…and now that baby was sitting on his lap.
I adored my Papa, and he let me down.
The Day He Died
And then the light of my world died.
His death didn’t stop the world from turning. People still went to work. Cars still drove down the road. Dinner still had to be made. The children still needed their every need tended to.
All while my whole world was crashing down. I was confused when my sadness rather quickly turned into anger. At the time it didn’t make any sense. What did I have to be angry about? . I remember asking my dad if there was any mention of me in my grandfather’s will. Looking back now, I understand why I asked this.
It wasn’t money I was after, although, no doubt that would be the first impression from the outside looking in. I was looking for evidence that I was remembered. I was desperate to find some indication that, somewhere during his lifetime, he had thought about me. That I had mattered to him.
It was like hitting a brick wall at full speed realizing there was nothing. His lifetime of stories, traditions, lessons, wisdom had evaporated with him. Nothing had been passed down to me, nothing was imparted. They died as they lived….without one thought of me. This was very hard truth for me to come to terms with.
Nothing was left.
Not a letter
Not a photograph with something written on the back.
Not a sentence in a will,
Not even a friggen Post-it-note
Silence.
Empty, cold, silence.
The Sticky Note
I would have treasured a sticky note. Not because the sticky note has any real value. But because of what it would have represented. It would have meant that someone had taken one moment out of their day to think of me. It would have meant that I mattered enough to be remembered.
This is when it first occurred to me.
What do we truly leave behind for the next generation?
It isn’t our possessions.
It isn’t our money.
It isn’t even our accomplishments.
What remains is simply our words and the sacrifice of our time in sharing them.
What My Grandparents Taught Me
Actions speak Loudly
Children don’t need grand gestures. They need walks, hand in hand. They need someone to say, “Tell me about your day, honey”. They need someone to ask, “What’s your favorite color?”
They need stories, laughter and traditions. They need someone to tell them where they come from. They need to know they are worth someone’s time. They need to know they matter.
They need the passing down of all things a mind can share, good and bad.
Choices of Time Matter
What we chose to do with our time as Parents and Grandparents will have lasting effects on those who come after us.
Other factors competing for our time are necessarily bad things. One can attend church, go on mission projects, shop, serve others, etc.
But even doing good things can become a problem when we consistently give our best time and attention to everyone else while the people closest to us are left waiting and wanting, either being constantly rejected or denied space in that life. Who can find time in a life that is full of activities for a calm, spontaneous walk?
Are we more concerned with telling strangers about the God’s Word then making sure our children know we thought about them today?
Are we so busy making holidays wonderful for our guests that we forget to notice whether our own children are enjoying them?
Children will not have the words to explain what they are feeling. They will not be able to tell you they feel overlooked. They will not understand why your time always seems to belong to someone else. They may not tell you until many years later, when they have time to reflect on their lived experiences. And by then, you may not be granted the opportunity to make it right.
Going Forward
Painful lessons sometimes provided the greatest incentive for change.
The question before me now is:
Will I continue this pattern with my own grandchildren?
I know my answer.
A very strong NO!
My Grandchildren will know their Grandma loves them.
They will know their Grandma has time for them!
They will know they were thought about.
They will know they were prayed for.
They will know their stories matter to me.
And even though circumstances prevent me from having the relationship I wish I could have with them, those circumstances will not stop me from loving them well.
No one can take the love I have for them away! No one can stifle it.
No one can make me stop thinking about them.
No one can stop me from leaving something behind for them.
I am not insignificant! I am not discardable! And I refuse to let circumstances, not in my control, alter these things.
What Remains
Everyone is important. Everyone holds value. And yet, everyone is also imperfect.
My grandparents had their own struggles, disappointments responsibilities, and battles that I knew nothing about. I hold nothing against them and have only love for them.
I can’t change how they chose to live. But I can choose to learn from what was missing. I can choose to alter my family relationship going forward.
I can’t change what they left me. But I can change what I leave behind.
Perhaps, that is the greatest lesson they have ever taught me.
I want the generations that follow me to have something different.
I want them to find letters.
Handwritten notes.
Pictures with words on the back.
Recipes.
Stories.
Scriptures,
Little reminders tucked into drawers.
And Yes,
Even a Post-it Note or two.
In fact, I think I’ll leave Post-it Notes all over this planet.
Because some day, when it is my time to leave this earth, I want someone to find something that says:
I may not be your biological Grandma, but if you need a Grandma in your life, I would be honored if you considered me as such.
I am reaching out to you now. I am making time for you. I will hold your hand as you walk through this life.
You matter so very much to me. I am thinking about you. You are loved, so very much.
My Prayer for You
My prayer for you today is that you choose to live your life without leaving people behind. Make time for the people God has placed in your life.
Tell them what they mean to you.
Ask them to tell you stories. Ask them all forms of questions and listen to their answers. Take pictures. Put your arm around them. Then pass down all that you have learned.
Treat people as if they matter, because they do.
They matter to you.
They matter to God.
And they deserve to know, they matter to themselves.
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