I wiped down the shelf today where my grandparent's photo sits, near my favorite book. Grandma was a steady source of amusement in my teens, as well as a source of strength and power that would come to me much later in life. Her wisdom never fails me, and I know she obtained her wisdom from the Bible, my favorite book. When my daughter struggled with in-laws and a new baby, Grandma's words came flooding back, "Just be there for her, she'll tell you what she needs." I patiently waited to be the one she called. When Lizzie was sick, she was confident she could handle anything that happened, so she didn't call. (She's a good Mommy, she's had lots of experience with kids, including her brothers and sister.) But when a bee stung her and the sting started swelling, she called Mom. I calmly talked her through the reaction, giving her strength and information she desperately needed. It took a while, but she called several times about questions she needed answered. When the in-laws got out of her way and started allowing her to make her own decisions, she called more often. Once she was again able to call, freely, the phone calls were frequent, sometimes several times a day. Grandma's wisdom worked again.
Moments in time when I think of life back then, in those summer afternoons on the porch swing, waiting for the locusts to sing, I remember events and conversations. The moments that stand out are laughter. Hearing my grandmother laugh is like listening to ice tinkle in crystal, ethereal and gratifying.
Yesterday, I had plumbing issues - it's winter and the pipes froze - so after trying everything I knew to try, I called Mom. As usual, wisdom passed down through the ages, and she rescued my frozen pipes with a few spoonfulls of salt to melt the ice. Moments later the ice was gone and I was able to take a hot shower and be ready in plenty of time for my meeting.
Oh, yeah, the meeting... Was cancelled due to ice. Guess they don't know my mom!
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