Normally my husband and I spend Thanksgiving day with some of our family. This year we were planning to spend it with my mother-in-law and just have a quiet day. We even changed our menu from turkey to chili because we’ve all been so busy lately and we didn’t want to do a lot of cooking. Well, the day turned out to be quieter than I expected.
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The other day my two and a half year old grandson looked up at me and said, “Your shirt pretty, Nana.” That was the first compliment he has given me and will no doubt not be the last. It was so sweet coming from that special little guy.
Last week my granddaughter celebrated her seventh birthday. Along with celebrating her birthday, I also celebrated the date I became a grandmother. It’s interesting to compare the differences one day can have for each person.
I’ve been a grandmother now for almost seven years and I currently have three precious little people who call me “Nana.” Although I have always known how important grandparents are in the life of their grandchildren, I didn’t realize just how much until recently.
Today is Father’s Day, a day when we traditionally honor the man who gave us life. The television ads and the store sales flyers would have us believe that everyone has a wonderful father who will appreciate a gift and a family dinner. I’m sure this is true for many families. However, for other people, their father is not someone that they respect or have had a good relationship with through the years. For those people, Father’s Day is an unpleasant reminder of bad times and a distant relationship.
Yesterday was a sad day for one of my college friends. Her teenage son, who was recently injured in a car accident, passed away after being in the hospital for just over a month. Jared received extremely severe brain injuries as a result of the accident and had been in a coma the entire time. Although we were all hoping and praying that he would make a miraculous recovery, that did not happen. His condition was much worse than originally thought and when he was taken off life support, his body gave up the fight.
Recently my mother contacted me about some books that her father, my grandfather, wrote and published prior to his death in 1979. Our family has a long history of missionary service in the Orient as well as a very unique genealogy which my grandfather researched and wrote about. It is a part of my legacy and something that I want my grandchildren to know when they’re old enough.
I believe that children are a gift from God. Whether you have biological, adopted, or foster children, it doesn’t matter. Each one is a gift that you have been given and you never know for sure how long you will have that precious gift. You hope that your children will live long happy lives and be the ones burying you, but we all know that it doesn’t happen that way all the time.
Today I had the privilege of spending time with my three young grandchildren, all under the age of seven. Sometimes it’s great just to take the time to look at things from the perspective of a child.
I actually wrote this post several weeks ago and never got around to posting it.
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