“Take Kindly the Counsel of the Years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.” Desiderata by Max Ehrmann.
You may have heard me say on a recent social media post that we have 17 grandchildren on earth and a couple in Heaven. We also have three granddaughters of the heart through marriage. Between them, they attend seven colleges, two high schools, one middle school, one elementary school, and two home schools – in three states.
We will not be at all their ballgames. Or band performances, or art displays, or Christmas concerts. The list goes on. Every year, we choose the grandchild who will graduate from high school next. That one becomes the focus of our strength and endurance. We will do our best to attend her stuff. Then we tuck in a few other events for the remaining grands if we can.
But, to tell you the truth, we have already missed a couple of games for her Last Football Season as a Cheerleader. Sometimes, this makes me sad. Other times, I consider the advice from this poem and “Take kindly the counsel of the years.”
We are no longer the youngsters who welcomed that first grandbaby.
We have arthritis. And bursitis. And a few other itises that make bleacher seats no longer our friends. I admire the great-grandparents who still show up with their lawn chairs at games. It just doesn’t always work for us.
Our absence isn’t a new thing, though. When the first grandchildren reached high school age, we were still working hard at jobs that took overtime. We missed a lot of games and a few concerts along the way.
I used to feel guilty about this lack of attendance. But then I remembered high school.
I tried to recall one time in my entire cheerleading life when I looked out at the crowd and thought, “Gee, I wish my Grandma was here.”
Of course we want to celebrate, support, and witness every thing each grandchild does. But, in reality, we can’t. Time, distance, work, health, and all kinds of things get in the way. When we do show up, it feels like an occasion. And we always get hugs and smiles. We feel the love.
I think the grandkids do, too.