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Grandparents'
Legacy of Love
by
Claudia Goodman
One summer when
our children were very small, Steve said to me, "We need to take
the children to Granna's farm." Granna was Steve's grandmother who
lived on a tiny, dusty farm in southeastern Arizona. It was an eighteen-hour
drive from our home, and we could only stay for a day. I was amazed
at how tiny the house was-it barely held all of us stretched out
end-to-end on the floor to sleep. But when we greeted Granna and
basked in her love, the long trip faded into oblivion. We splashed
through "Granna's River," and our cares dissolved as peace washed
over us with the waves. We loved it so much that we returned year
after year. Even our teenage children dropped whatever they were
doing to join us in the long car ride to Granna's house.
Why were the
cords that pulled us there so strong? Over the years I have become
aware of several priceless gifts that Granna shared with us-gifts
that perhaps only grandparents, or those acting as grandparents,
can give.
First, grandparents
offer a unique BUFFER OF LOVE.
When our first
child, Shawn was born at 2:30 in the morning, the first people we
called were our parents. We knew they would be excited, but we were
not prepared for the exhilaration that they were just as thrilled
about this precious baby as we were. Over the next weeks and months
I called my mother so many times, just to say, "Guess what! Shawn
smiled for the first time todayhe just got his first toothhe slept
through the night" We lived those experiences together.
As our family
attended the funeral of our great-grandfather, I noticed a very
interesting phenomenon. Those who were weeping and struggling the
most were not his brothers, sisters, or children. They were a few
of his grandchildren-the ones with the long hair, multiple earrings,
and scruffy clothes-the ones who had not served missions and were
not active in the church-the ones who had experienced drugs, divorce,
and heartache. Why did this crippled old man mean so much to them?
Because he had seen beyond their rough exterior, loved them unconditionally,
and accepted them as they were.
Grandparents
have a unique vantage point. W hile parents love their children
deeply, they must also discipline them and follow through on their
behavior. If grandparents try to assume that disciplinary role,
it backfires on them and prevents them from ministering to some
of their grandchildren's greatest needs. One grandmother told me
of a time that she tended three of her grandchildren while their
parents were away on a trip. They were not very well disciplined,
and she was excited for this opportunity to "whip them into shape".
She did so very effectively, but when the week was over, her grandchildren
no longer wanted to come to her house or even talk to her. She realized
that she had made a mistake.
After talking
to her Grandma Johnson on the phone, our four-year-old granddaughter
Lucy said, "Mommy, Grandma loves me." She knew. The abiding love
of a grandparent, given freely without judgment can be one of the
most powerful forces in a child's life. It is the perfect compliment
to the parents' efforts in the home.
The second gift
that grandparents give is UNHURRIED TIME. That
gift is becoming infinitely more precious as the pressures of the
world mount around us. Caught in the pressures of diaper-changing,
cooking, car pooling, helping with homework, laundry, cleaning house,
etc., often parents have little time to do additional special things
to show love to their children. Grandparents are often in a position
to come to the situation fresh and fill in that gap.
It was Presidents'
Day, a vacation from school. Our older children faced a real dilemma.
Several of their friends had invited them to go do something. The
children debated back and forth, but in the end they chose to do
the thing they wanted to do most-go to Grandma's house to play games.
Some of our
children's fondest memories are Valentines and Easter packages mailed
from grandparents, containing candies and cards. They loved GranNomi's
(Steve's mom) stories, which she read on cassette tapes and sent
along with the books. They were a great way for the children to
remember her, even though she lived far away. They also freed me
to do household chores while they were happily occupied.
The children
eagerly anticipated their turn to take a summer vacation with Grandpa
and Grandma when we lived in another state. Grandpa was a fantastic
tour guide. Then there was the annual tradition of having a sleepover
with them for their birthday when we lived close. No matter who
else might forget their birthday, the grandparents never did!
We all delighted
in the adorable clothes GranNomi sewed for the children. When one
of our children was asked in Primary what he liked about his grandpa,
he replied, "He takes me to the dump." Grandad took the grandchildren
with him to deposit the prunings from his yard, but of course the
best part was stopping at 7-Eleven on the way home for a treat!
One of the greatest
blessings of my life was a brief period of time when I had five
preschoolers, including a brand new baby. My mother volunteered
to take all the children every Friday morning so I could have a
break. The children looked forward to it all week (so did I!) and
still talk about the fun they had playing Candyland with Grandma-with
real candy!
Because Grandpa
and Grandma lived close to BYU, several of their grandchildren attended
there at the same time. Grandma initiated a weekly "Cousins Dinner"
that carried on for several years. All the cousins and their spouses
were invited. It not only provided time for them to visit and get
close to each other, but it also saved them considerable money and
time on their meager budgets. After one cousin had graduated and
moved back to Texas, he was traveling to the west coast to meet
some friends for spring break. He drove out of his way to go through
Provo, called Grandma and asked if they could have a "Cousins Dinner."
On two hours notice, most of the cousins assembled for a wonderful
reunion and dinner together.
Parents don't
usually have time to initiate these kinds of activities, but grandparents
do. Because they don't have the constant burden of care, they can
nurture their grandchildren and give them the unhurried time they
so desperately need.
The third thing
grandparents can do is offer a clear view of the BIG PICTURE.
They have lived long enough to give their children and grandchildren
glimpses of true perspective, gained through years of experience.
Grandad is always
reminding us to "Reduce and simplify." His life is a great example
of that principle. Grandpa's sayings include, "It will pass," and
"It all depends," both of which come in handy regularly.
One of the things
I loved most about going to Granna's farm was the feeling of calm
that came over me. It was away from the world and helped me to realize
that the tiny crises in my life were merely that. Like her river,
they would flow on by, tempered by the deeper undercurrent.
It's important
for grandparents to remember that their children and grandchildren
may not take their advice. There are some things they must try and
learn for themselves. Perhaps the most powerful tool of all is the
grandparents' example. Even if it takes awhile for the lessons to
sink in, their lives will be a beacon for their posterity.
Have you ever
had a moment when you looked at your children and sensed that their
greatness superceded anything you could possibly have done for them?
That they had been strengthened by a power far beyond your own?
Grandparents
are in a unique position to offer ANCHORING ROOTS
to their posterity. Many times I have sensed these words pronounced
in a priesthood blessing: "You come from a line of believing blood."
So much of the goodness in our lives comes from our roots-through
our grandparents, their parents, and beyond.
On our way back
from Granna's one year, we stopped to see Steve's Uncle Chet, who
had fought on the front lines under General Patton in World War
II. For hours we sat spellbound listening to his tales. As we drove
home, words came to my mind. I grabbed a paper plate lying on the
floor (the only paper I could see) and began to write.
They dreamed
of finding freedom
To worship
and to live,
But they
never claimed it;
They died
for it instead.
Yet they
passed the spark along
From father
down to son
And their
children's children's children
Lived by
the light they'd won.
Listen,
listen, you can hear them cry:
Pass it
on, pass it on!
Take the
gift they held so true.
Pass it
on, pass it on!
They paid
the price for you
For years our
grandparents have held a monthly family dinner on fast Sunday afternoon.
It's a great chance for the cousins to get together and for the
adults to cement their relationships. Two years ago one of the young
cousins went into life-threatening convulsions. His father asked
his six-year-old daughter to run to the neighbors for help. She
ran up the street in the dark, but the neighbors weren't home. She
didn't stop until she found their home teacher several blocks away
and secured the help they needed. Katie Jo had always been petrified
of the dark. Afterward her father and mother marveled that she was
able to run that far alone. Then the feeling came to them that she
was not alone but was accompanied by a guardian angel, perhaps her
little cousin who had died two years earlier in a car accident.
They had become close friends at the monthly family dinners.
One of the best
suggestions I have heard is that instead of buying things for their
grandchildren, grandparents could write a story from their life
for them every week and mail it to them. They could tell how things
were when they grew up, what their parents' lives were like, lessons
they learned, funny incidents, faith-promoting lessons. One of my
older children's fond memories was family home evenings when their
grandparents told them stories of their ancestors. And my most vivid
memory of my grandmother was sitting on her lap while she told me
about the time her family attended the Manti Temple dedication and
heard a choir of angels sing.
While all these
gifts from our grandparents are priceless, perhaps the greatest
gift they can bestow is INFUSION OF TESTIMONY.
There has come
a time in our lives when the adorable homemade dresses and quilts,
the trips to the dump, the cousins dinners, and birthday sleepovers
have been put on hold. Each of our parents have served three missions-Steve's
at the Provo Temple, the London England Mission, and the Atlanta
Temple; Claudia's in the London South Mission, the Brazil Sao Paulo
North Mission, and the Salt Lake City Family History Mission.
We miss the
beautiful clothes and quilts, the fun dinners together, and the
best babysitters in the world. And most of all we miss just spending
time with them, and they miss watching the grandchildren grow and
change, attending baptisms, missionary farewells, and weddings.
Two or three years away from grandchildren are a long time. But
we have found the sacrifice to be infinitely worth it.
I'll never forget
GranNomi standing to bear her testimony at a family reunion after
returning from London. She looked the girls directly in the eye
and said, "Sister missionaries are a great strength to the Lord's
work. If you aren't married, I hope every one of you girls will
serve a mission." The impact of her testimony was immeasurable.
Our oldest son
Shawn left on his mission to London two weeks after my parents returned
from London South. They talked and laughed and cried together as
they shared suggestions and experiences. No one could have been
more excited for Shawn's mission than they were.
Grandparents
have supported and sustained our children on their missions more
than we can express, and the blessings have flowed. Because of their
example, every one of our children has had a burning desire to serve
a mission. Such commitment comes from more than just having strong
parents.
My mother told
me that once when she was serving in Brazil she had a strong feeling
that she was needed at home. She was very concerned but felt powerless
to help. As she opened her scriptures, her eyes fell upon the words,
"Verily, thus saith the Lord unto you, my friends, your families
are well; they are in mine hands, and I will do with them as seemeth
me good; for in me there is all power." (D&C 100:1) Peace and
comfort flooded her soul, and she was able to immerse herself in
the work.
While my parents
were on one of their missions, my sister Ruth was scheduled to be
sealed to her husband in the Provo Temple. I called from Colorado
and told her that Steve and I were coming to be with her. She replied,
"Oh, no, it's too far."
I said, "Ruth,
this is the most important thing you will do for the rest of your
life, and I'm not going to miss it."
When we arrived,
Ruth said, "I'm so glad you came. Nobody else can be there."
Before the ceremony
began, we were moved to a larger sealing room. There were several
empty chairs. I was privileged to sit next to Ruth in place of my
mother. As the ceremony proceeded, I began to cry. At first I didn't
understand, but gradually I realized that someone was sitting in
every empty chair, many of whom I recognized-our little brother
and sister who had died in infancy, our grandparents, and even our
own parents were there in spirit. After the ceremony I put my arms
around Ruth and said, "Ruth, you were wrong. Everybody came."
She looked at
me through tears and nodded. "I know," she said.
If we sacrifice
for the Lord, we can only reap His choicest blessings. It is our
personal testimony through the six missions our parents have served,
that the children and grandchildren are infinitely blessed in their
absence, even more greatly than if they had stayed at home. The
payment for a few years apart has been a priceless legacy of testimony,
deep commitment to the gospel, pure joy, and unspeakable love. Elder
Robert D. Hales, an apostle of the Lord, has given us the promise,
"If we are willing
to leave our loved ones for service in the mission field, we will
bless them with a heritage that will teach and inspire them for
generations to come." Our parents are living witnesses to his words.
In Restrospect
Time races on,
and a few years ago Granna was buried near the river that was such
a part of our lives. As I stood alone on its banks, I realized that
I was no longer a new bride wading in Granna's River for the first
time or a young mother watching my children splash on each other
and float on logs. I was a grandmother for the very first time!
"What shall
we call you?" my oldest son asked.
I caught my
breath as I wondered if I could ever live up to the name of a person
I had loved so much. Could I ever do it justice? On the other hand,
would her name be buried with her? I smiled as warm, happy memories
flooded over me. "Granna," I replied.
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