She makes her way up the steps to my home; on her right, a cane, and to her left, my wild at heart boy. He saw her pull into the drive and he rushed to her side, so much like his dad. My maternal grandmother, my only grandparent left. She is losing her vision, but still loves to look long and hard into the faces of her great grandchildren.
“Josiah?,” she guesses correctly. “Thank you for helping me up the stairs.”
He nods his thanks and begins to unpack her bags. She has packed tacos for our lunch date. The same taco meal she prepared for me as a child. Ground beef, taco shells, black olives, lettuce, cheese, salsa, tomatoes, and sour cream. It reminds me of my childhood. And now my children gather around my table and share this same meal with my grandmother.
We lick our fingers and smile at the stories she tells. She is a great storyteller and my older girls soak up all of her memories. Elli serves the brownies that Audrey has baked and we eat some more. Good dessert always compliments good stories and I know my grandmother has hours of stories hidden in her heart.
We wait for her to wipe her lips clean before we begin to clean the table. The children have waited patiently for their great grandmother to finish her meal and her story telling.
Why is it so hard to sit still and wait for another? Why must I rush through life as though I am missing something more important than what is at hand?
She retreats to the family room and sits a spell. She unpacks yet another gift and all of my children gather around her chair and beam with anticipation. They stare at my grandmother as though she is Santa and stuff their $5 in their pockets.
My grandmother is blessing my children with more than she knows. She has made this mama slow down and eat tacos for lunch. She is teaching us to enjoy a good story and give honor to the storyteller.
She is the reason I took the time to teach my Audrey how to make brownies.
In order to bless my grandmother, we have ceased our normal activity and chosen to slow down. We are savoring this gift of her life.
And this gift of her life is evident in these children who give me more life than I ever imagined.