After a 3 month silence, I have returned to you. When I write these posts, I envision us all gathered round in a circle, sitting in the grass, with a forest behind us, warm cups of coffee or tea in our hands, like some sort of hippy gathering, as we share our stories. I guess I had to get up and leave the circle for a while. I needed time to grieve the passing of my grandmother. This is the first truly painful loss I've ever experienced, and I'm learning that I handle grief with silence.
Grandma was.....
well, nothing I could say could sum it up or feel right to me. Furthermore, to write a tribute to her would be to say that she is gone. It would feel like I am trying to tie up something that is not finished. I do believe she is still alive, just on the other side of a great curtain and that I will see her again one day. So instead of writing one big epic post about how much she means to me, (because she means a great deal) perhaps her influence and memories will appear occasionally in my writings for the rest of my life.
Like me, Grandma was a homemaker. Perhaps it is because she made this lifestyle look so desirable that I chose this path.
Homemaking covers many topics. We could discuss so many things. We could discuss our move into a house with a yard and a fence and all the joys of building my new nest. But we'll save that for another day. Today I want to talk about motherhood again.
It's really no surprise to me that the topic breaking my silence is the topic of motherhood. Truly, it is currently my favorite subject. It consumes nearly every waking minute of my life right now and I'm even on duty in my sleep! A nine month old is an all consuming joy.
Yesterday a friend wrote and reminded me that it is OK to admit that motherhood is hard. I needed to be reminded.
I knew this in the beginning when my baby was a newborn. It's just so obvious how hard it is and most people don't try to do more than is reasonable at that point. We are all given a pass when the baby is only two weeks old. It's later, when things get a little easier and our capacity increases, and we get carried away and then crash and then feel lost because we no longer have any idea where our new limitations are.
I'm in that stage where my baby is sleeping a little longer and I'm finally getting a decent night's sleep. (Not an amazing night's sleep, but a decent night's sleep.) I assumed this meant I would immediately start feeling better and well rested for the first time in ten months. Not the case! Apparently one or two normal nights of sleep is not enough to heal ten months of sleep deprivation. No, it actually is making me feel worse for a little while, my body craving MORE, MORE, MORE. In a way, it was easier to run on insufficient sleep. The body simply shuts down the call for sleep and functions without it for a season. Reawaken that beast and watch out!
I've never heard mothers talk about this stage, but apparently I'm in a season of recovery and it doesn't happen overnight.
To make it more complicated, sometime in the past month I was bit by the bug that says I need to accomplish MORE than simply raising a child. What a joy killer. To raise a child is an all-consuming task. Joyful, yet all consuming. I know it is all consuming and yet I have to be reminded. Why do I quickly forget?
Maybe every mother has a tendency to forget? Maybe all Americans try to see how much they can accomplish? Like it's a badge of our value as humans? Is this why people keep passing me in the street saying, "they grow up so fast! Enjoy it!" As well-meaning as this is, I wish they would stop. I am keenly aware that Samantha is growing fast and soon she will grow up and be gone. It's a painful thought. If I think about it too much, it will ruin the beauty of the moment. Trying too hard to enjoy something can, in itself, rob any possibility of enjoying it. On the other hand, by not trying hard enough, we can also miss enjoyment, so I can't fault those ladies for their mantra. It's just that I'm the mother who needs to be reminded that she will be a BETTER MOTHER if she spends time away from her baby occasionally. I'm the one wanting to spend every minute with her, kissing her and enjoying her, not wanting to miss a minute of her short time with me, but at the same time CRAVING, NEEDING time alone and having a hard time taking it. The one exception is when she is with her Daddy. I have no problem walking away and not looking back and not thinking about her when I leave her with him. I am at complete peace in those times because I know she is having a blast and he is having a blast and he and I are so bonded, when she is with him, I feel she is still with me. Anyone who has a marriage like this is blessed. But I digress. The point is, I need to take time away from my greatest joy occasionally, so I can continue to enjoy her.
It's ok to say that motherhood is hard. It's even good and necessary to admit it. But it's way more fun to talk about how amazing and wonderful motherhood is. The joy makes all the hard worth it. At 9 months old, it's just now getting really fun. It has been fun, but it's getting even more fun. Like sitting on the kitchen floor together every morning, sharing a bowl of oatmeal from the same spoon. Or popping bubbles in the kiddie pool out back. Or listening to Hakuna Matata from the Lion King seven times in a row just so we can bop our heads and hands to the music. These things are the heart of homemaking. We stay home so we can do these things together. That is what Grandma taught me.
Yesterday my Mom asked if I remembered the time we visited the Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream factory... the time we all nearly wet our pants laughing because Grandma got slobbered on by a cow as she tried to help us kids feed the cows in the Ben and Jerry's pasture. The amazing bit is that she hated all things farm related. She grew up on a farm and wanted nothing to do with it. Yet she did it for us. She was always a good sport. Willing, in her 60's to ride a thrill ride with me, a 10 year old, when the circus came to town. Speaking of the circus, she always made sure my sister and I each got our OWN cotton candy when she was buying. An incredible luxury. But again, I digress. I only vaguely remember the incident at Ben and Jerry's, but it illustrates what I do remember about her. She was always on the floor with us, doing things in our world on our level, yet at the same time, raising us up, inspiring us to join her on her level, in her world. Come to think of it, isn't that what Christ did for us on the cross and the Holy Spirit continues to do for us every day. He comes down to our level and enters our world to raise us up with Him to Divine Glory.
Whether Grandma knew it or not, she was imitating Christ for us. And this is the heart of homemaking; to imitate Christ every day. Many of us have heard this over and over in Sunday school; the goal in every area of life is to imitate Christ. Yet Grandma made it look like a joy instead of a burden. She did it without broadcasting that this was the purpose of her actions. Indeed, it is only dawning on me now how successful she was at things others read book after book and blog after blog, seeking to become. Perhaps, sometimes, in trying too hard, we miss the whole thing. She wasn't into reading Christian self-help books. For her, simply presenting a sincere heart, a willingness to serve and a humble spirit, was enough to make her legendary in the eyes of all who knew her.
I seek to be like her, even now, when she is no longer a phone call away, but separated from me by a Holy curtain. I hope to see her again one day. In the meantime, I will continue to eat oatmeal on the kitchen floor with my daughter, like she would have done.
