Grandmotherhood

Mother’s Day and Father’s Day were big events in ads, malls, restos. Fanfare or not, I celebrate grandmotherhood more.

As a young mother, I cooked and fed my kids, gave them baths, was up when they were sick, attended their school meetings — everything that a mother usually does. But their yaya was a part time mother and shared my responsibilities because I had work. I missed some of my children’s first sit up, first word, first run.

A grandma 24/7 to my two apos, ‘jobless’, and eager, I get up faster than my daughter for their feeding time, diaper change, bath time, especially with my first grandchild. My daughter at school, and with no yaya, I did all. If it were possible, I would have readily breast fed them too!

As if on rewind, I was rewarded with what I missed from my own children. Their first crawl, first step, first fall, first grasp on my finger, first solid food, first word, first fever, first song — I WAS THERE!

I believe that it is never because I love my grandchildren more than my kids, but because I have learned to love better. Having now realised my shortcomings as a mother, thankful for this chance to do better, and hoping to somehow pay off my wrongs, GOD keeps supplying me with more love, patience, endurance (having two very active and noisy grandkids on each knee fighting over my attention; the grandson using my knee, tummy, chest as ladder to finally hang onto my neck, could be very challenging).

My own kids needed to repeat the rosary if they were rowdy during prayer. With just “hey Mary” from the older, and “hoy Meyi’ from the younger is prayer enough. Knowing the power of prayer, my lullabies were Hail Mary, Anima CHRISTI, Heart of JESUS, JESU UFAM TOBIE. Together in bed, our prayer songs are usually by trio. I know that GOD will not mind the mispronounced words, but would just lovingly look at their innocent hearts.

I share JESUS’ words “let the children come to ME.” My GOD is making my heart of stone into a heart of flesh through these young souls. Their “I lab you, GOD bes you, pis (please), tey (thank) you”, really melts my heart.

Being a mother again is not a back subject, but a masteral course in loving more deeply.

TO GOD BE ALL GLORY!!! (Bella A. Sarenas)