The love I have for my grandchildren is wordless. When I look at them and think about them I feel as if my heart is expanding. Like it could almost burst out of my chest. Sometimes I tell my children I love my grandchildren more. However, I love them all the same. It’s just that love expands so it gets greater with each grandchild or new member of our family (son in laws) .
I had to work a twelve hour shift on Fathers Day, and I was almost tormented by the fact that my house was going to be a disaster when I arrived back home.
I know, I should just be grateful that it’s Fathers Day. We’re all alive and healthy and we get to celebrate each other. At work I even spoke about the dreaded mess I would be expecting at home.
Great Grandma Lenny was planning on coming over to cook, and all the kids and grandkids would be home. Which is AMAZING to have them all here, but I wouldn’t be home to chase after everyone. That equals – MESS.
While I was pulling my 12 hour nursing shift I received a message from my daughter Emily.
Yup, milk spilt on my wool rug, grrrrr. New glass bird bath broke. 😡 I immediately got hot under the nursing scrubs and sent an email to the family to get things in order by the time I arrive home. I can’t show that email because the word selection wasn’t the best. 😬
I finished my twelve hour shift and dreaded the disaster that awaited me. I opened the front door and spied my daughter finishing up cleaning. To my surprise the house was clean. The spilled milk was cleaned up off of the wool rug, my daughter Jordan had food waiting for me in some Tupperware.
The next day I woke up and browsed through Facebook. I saw this picture of my grandchildren and it melted my heart.
Bentley 5, Olivia 2, Myah 6 months, Brynlee 5, Beckham 2, and Emmett 4.
I was already feeling like such a brat for worrying about THE MESS. However, when I spied this picture my heart wanted to burst from my chest. I remembered how short and precious life is. How important it is to build memories such as spilled milk on a wool rug, or a broken bird bath. Next Father’s Day we will look back and laugh about the spilled milk and the broken bird bath. My thoughts veered off as I remembered how I missed my father, and my husbands father. Yes, I miss Marks dad just as much as I miss my own.
I have to remember to invite the messes and let memories be made. Life is so short and so precious and we don’t know when anyone’s last day could be.
Those little people of mine, even though they’re little, they’re always teaching me BIG lessons.
Lots of ❤, Roxanne
My daughter, Alyssa’s, post on Facebook.