I cleaned out a drawer last week and found a sweet Thanksgiving drawing from Granddaugher Macy when she was first learning the art of story. (I love this girl. Can’t you tell from this picture that she rocks life?)
On the story I found, she had written,
“Dear Granpa and Granma, Thank you for raising my mother. She is just like you. Love, Macy.”
Such a beautiful sentiment. But, it isn’t true, thank the Lord. Felicity isn’t just like me. Neither are Serenity or Charity. And Joe isn’t exactly like their father. Oh, we share a lot of similarities. We speak in Princess Bride, cry at Hallmark commercials, and know how to breathe through the fear. But we are wildly different.
After the recent election, I sent a text to one of our teenage granddaughters to tell her I knew she might be feeling sad and unsettled. And, I was sorry about that. We hadn’t exactly discussed politics (because we treasure our relationship too much) but I knew we would have filled out different circles on the paper ballot if we’d voted in adjacent booths in our little county. And I wanted to validate her feelings. I wanted to connect and care.
That is how we try to handle all the differences in our family. Among the clan of cousins, we have families who do home school and big church, but others do public school and home church. One is a starting quarterback. Another is in the marching band. One wasn’t allowed to watch Jurassic Park until she turned eight. Another quotes hip hop lyrics. Some of them are Huskers. (Serious. Huskers.) Others are wise enough to cheer for Mizzou.
We have been amazed and delighted to watch our children grow up and divide off into their own units. They are building beautiful nests, but they do not look like ours. They don’t even look exactly like one another’s.
And that has helped me adopt the attitude that I have carried through this election season. I am taking it into the upcoming holidays. And I hope to make it a way of life. I might get it tatooed on my forehead. You are welcome to borrow it if I didn’t offend you with that last statement, Dear Reader. Here it is:
“I am determined to care more about the people around the table than about the opinion I brought into the room.”
Actually, I suppose Macy does have things figured out after all. Her mother and the siblings are just like us in the most basic, fundamental way that matters most of all. It’s in the love.
Thanks, Macy. You are just like your mom.
