Thursday, November 28, 2013

Thanksgiving through my Grandma's eyes

She lives in a world where moment to moment is all there is.  A moment of joy, a moment of confusion, a moment of delight, a moment of sadness.

She delights in my precious 18-month-old as she watches her take her tottering steps - not so different from her own.

She delights in sharing a photo album with my 4-year-old - he, loving to look at pictures he's seen again and again - she, looking at vaguely familiar faces and exclaiming with delight when she recognizes the little one sharing the couch with her in the photo.

She sits, overwhelmed, at a table full of family, full of children, loaded with food.  The buzz of conversation goes on around her, she's oblivious to all, as she tastes a tiny bite of each dish.

She laughs at the baby making silly faces at foods that are unfamiliar to her taste palate.  And enjoys mimicking her and making her laugh in return.

She looks around, wide-eyed with confusion, as she assures my husband that she can walk on her own, and in the next breath telling us she must be getting old and she doesn't know what's wrong with her, but maybe she'd better use the wheelchair after all.

She is joyful as she notices the obvious fact that we are expecting a baby - and surprised to learn in that moment, that it is our seventh.  Not our second or third.

She is unsettled periodically, wondering if she's staying or if she will be going soon.  All of her small decisions have been passed to others.  Although, she knows she doesn't want wine, she doesn't want coffee, she wants to sit in the living room, she doesn't want to try the game.

Everything is at face value - there's not much history, there's just the sweet present to be enjoyed as it unfolds before her.

She graciously tells me how good it was to see me, how I haven't changed, how good it was to see everyone.

Love is recognized, received, and given.

She blesses me, and though I ache for her, for the trials of getting old, I choose to see the joy in her special situation and am challenged by her to delight in those moments that are so fleeting and not willing to stay and wait for me to notice them while I focus on my yesterday or my 2 hours from now.
My daughter's name was spoken as a reminder of her name so many times throughout the day.  Yes, she is adorable, her name is Mercy.

Thank you, Lord, for such a reminder.  Your mercies are new every morning.  And every moment.  For each of us.  Great is Your faithfulness!


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