There is just something special about those wise, older moms who know how to pray and show those around them (no matter the skin tone, gender, sexuality, etc.) some love. I miss my grandma.
I miss her because...
She was there to answer the phone during those times when my kids were getting on my last nerve.
She heard my cries even when I didn't call her and so she would pick up the phone and call me, "Are you okay? Tell me about it."
She would remind me to take out the Bible and read a verse sometimes for her, other times for me.
She shared stories not only of her successes, but failures too.
She wasn't always happy and she didn't fake her emotions either or act as if she was better than me just because she was older and wiser.
She loved me even when I didn't love myself, God, and wasn't much on showing her love either.
She was genuinely happy when I achieved something and didn't mind listening to my stories.
She told me things and said, "This is just between me and you." I felt special even if everyone else knew the same thing.
She didn't mind explaining how she whipped a meal or dessert together and sometimes mentioned her "secrets."
She laughed when I told her funny things and didn't act self-righteous.
I miss my Grandma. I guess that is why it's hard sometimes writing my motherhood stuff on this blog now. Feel free to check out When Mothers Cry and Tell Me Mother You're Sorry.
Nicholl McGuire
I miss her because...
She was there to answer the phone during those times when my kids were getting on my last nerve.
She heard my cries even when I didn't call her and so she would pick up the phone and call me, "Are you okay? Tell me about it."
She would remind me to take out the Bible and read a verse sometimes for her, other times for me.
She shared stories not only of her successes, but failures too.
She wasn't always happy and she didn't fake her emotions either or act as if she was better than me just because she was older and wiser.
She loved me even when I didn't love myself, God, and wasn't much on showing her love either.
She was genuinely happy when I achieved something and didn't mind listening to my stories.
She told me things and said, "This is just between me and you." I felt special even if everyone else knew the same thing.
She didn't mind explaining how she whipped a meal or dessert together and sometimes mentioned her "secrets."
She laughed when I told her funny things and didn't act self-righteous.
I miss my Grandma. I guess that is why it's hard sometimes writing my motherhood stuff on this blog now. Feel free to check out When Mothers Cry and Tell Me Mother You're Sorry.
Nicholl McGuire