As long as I live I”ll never forget the faded blue eyes of the past gently gazing into the cherub like face of the future. A blank slate with the whole world in front of her. Oh the possibilities! Watching my Gam reach out with her soft, wrinkled hand, the ones displaying more character than I could ever hope to have, and stroke the pudgy fingers of her Great Great Granddaughter. I choked up and turned away. How could you not? A sight so treasured, so precious, so spiritual! A privilege known to few. Gratefully, I am able to embrace the magnitude of this moment. Can you imagine? I hope that some of you have been fortunate enough to be here.
This was how I just spent my weekend. I have returned from a quick trip to Temple, Texas meant solely to bring together my Grandmother to my Granddaughter. We came home with a priceless five generation photo and memories more precious than the most exquisite jewels. It was a true celebration of life. My gratitude is immeasurable. I find myself questioning if my Gam truly knows all she has been to me. If grandparents can really fathom the role they have so adoringly played in our lives? It”s Thanksgiving. If I may be so bold, let me thank you for your Grandchildren.
I’m certain that you will find a piece of my Gam inside all of you that have given the time to truly love a Grandchild. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart. For you we are eternally grateful.
Thank you for your support. No one does support like Grandma and Grandpa. We learn from a very early age you are the head of our fan club. Our unwavering support. Our loudest cheerleaders-regardless of what we did or didn”t do with our chore list.
Thank you for conspiring with us to convince Mom and Dad to let us stay up past our bedtime. For reminding them how fleeting childhood is and that rules were made to be broken.
Thank you for your laughter. For making us feel like we are witty and wise beyond our years. For willingly viewing the world through our childish, innocent eyes.
Thank you for not being afraid to be silly. The countless knock knock jokes you”ve endured? It meant the world to us and I”m certain they will be stars on your crowns!
Thank you for the stories! Even though I”m still not sure how you walked up hill both ways to school in a blizzard nearly every day. I suspect some of those stories you told were even true!
Thank you for helping me understand my mom wasn’t always my mom. She was a child, a daughter, a sister, a student, a surly teenager and a tentative adult. She had dreams, and fears and wishes. She laughed, cried, and made mistakes. Experienced failures and successes. Made good choices and had poor judgment like the time she wrapped an onion for you for Christmas and it rotted under all those pretty ribbons and wrapping paper. I remember how hard you laughed when you repeated that story.
Thank you for making my mother human.
Thank you for the cookies for breakfast, the chocolate for bedtime, the candy at Christmas and the extra cash you”d slip in my pocket just before we left to go home.
Thank you for books you”d send and hoped we’d read.
Thank you for bribing us to do so and for beaming with pride when you handed us our reward.
Thank you for teaching us to fish, letting us get dirty and believing all of our stories, no matter how unbelievable they were.
Thank you for your wisdom. The ageless, timeless pictures you”d paint of a much different world. One lacking in regular meals, consisting of hard manual labor, illnesses without cures.
Thank you for teaching us appreciation.
Thank you for family dinners at the table, laughing through tears and endless games of Dominos.
Thank you for secret family recipes, introducing us to God, playing the organ and singing Christmas carols with the voice of an angel.
Thank you for your presence.
Thank you for your unconditional love. Being blind to our faults. For spending your life sprinkling stardust over us. For the twinkle in your eyes, the warm soothing hugs, the way you’d take an ordinary day and make it extraordinary.
And finally, thank you for telling us the secrets to life, just by taking the time to speak.
Stacy L Johnson
Proud Granddaughter to Naomi Ruth Myers