“Oma loves you”

I’m 46 now.  A middle aged mom and a young Oma I suppose.  Two of our four kids are grown and gone.  Two are teens at home.  I’m living my dream.  I never aspired to be anything other than a Mom.  Some would pity me.  No degree.  Only a couple of years of college.  Married and a mom by age 22.  But this is my story, not theirs.  I wouldn’t change a thing.  Now we are Grandparents.  One perfect little boy, now 10 months.  And we’ve adopted our little neighborhood miracle across the street…”he doesn’t have any grandparents” his mother said to us with tears in her eyes, when we were visiting our little four pound munchkin in the hospital.  “He does now” we said in unison.  Now that he’s home, she calls and texts with questions about him, and I scurry across the street to answer them and calm her heart.  She keeps apologizing..she doesn’t want to bother me.   If she could only have my heart for a few seconds, she would understand how much I love that she calls.  People said that being a Grandma was the reward for being a Mom.  They were right.  Our son and his wife are so generous with their little boy.  She lets me have him whenever I want.  There’s nothing like having my Grandchild get sooooo excited to see me, and practically leap into my arms, there to stay for as long as he wants.  This is the best job.  Ever.

We are a religious family, LDS or Mormon as some say it.  We have strong Testimonies of the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ.  We’ve tried to have a Gospel centered home.  Family Prayers, family Scripture, Family Home Evening…sometimes successful and sometimes not.  As you children have grown, as schedules have become busy and harried, as you spend more time away from home, and ultimately leave the nest…I’ve pondered and prayed and tried to figure out how to reach you on a more spiritual and personal level.  I just don’t get enough “moments” handed to me to share my inner most thoughts and feelings about things that I’m studying, or just things that I’m thinking.  It came to me one day that I have to join you, go where you are.  Because you aren’t really home anymore.  And that of course brought me to social media.  Ugh.  I’m so bad at it… I’m still trying to figure out Facebook for heaven’s sake!  But.  I’m desperate to reach you, even if just for a moment a day.  And so.  Here I am.  Blogging of all things.  I have no idea what I’m doing.  I read a few articles, and created this blog in just a few minutes.  I don’t suppose it looks that great.  I’ll have to work on that.    This is where I share my thoughts, my feelings, my memories, my life.  My way.  A legacy if you will.  Hopefully it will follow you even after I’m gone.  What I would give to have something like this from the only Grandma I knew.  None of my siblings remember her.  I don’t want that to happen to us.

From the moment our first grand baby was born, I whispered quietly in his ear Oma loves you.  I would say it quietly, in a sing song voice, in a whisper, over and over and over.  As he got older, if he was fussy I would whisper this to him in his ear and he would calm immediately.  I could put him to sleep just by getting him to focus his eyes on mine and listen intently to my sing song voice as I told him a story and said that I love him.  My teenagers made fun of me sometimes…”play with him” I would say.  “Talk to him” I would say.  “What in the world do I say to a newborn!  Oh wait…Oma loves me!” they would say in that sing song voice and then laugh hysterically.  Even now.  Baby B is so busy, but if he’s tired and resting, if I whisper this to him at just the right time, he still tilts his little head and raises an eyebrow as if the remembering is there, just in the recesses of his mind.  And so, whatever you learn of me, whatever you think of me, you will always know that Oma loves you.



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