Sheila Sims Iding
They say “When a baby is born, so is a grandmother.” Well…on April 25, 2014, this grandmother…this Nana…was born. A brand new Nana. I have never been a Nana before. I learned that grandbabies don’t come with manual. So…I have a lot to learn about being a Nana.
It’s also been said, “It takes a village to raise a child.” As a teacher, I believe in the powerful truth of that quote. It may take a village to raise a child. But…truth is…it’s not only kids who need a village. A new nana needs a village too.
My rearing into nana-hood came from the love, support, care and mentoring of many people in my life. When I reflect on what brought me to nana-hood, it wasn’t one person or incident or situation. So, today, as we celebrate Mother’s Day I would like to thank the many people who blessed my life and became part of the village it takes to raise this nana.
Papa: First and foremost thanks to my dad. He only got to be a “papa” for less than 15 months. Not a very long time for grandparenting instructions. Even a shorter time for papa memories with Joey. But in those short 14 months, he taught me the simple memories last the longest: waiting rooms, yellow roses, babysitting and playdates.
He taught me your first job is to sit in that family waiting room…for hours if need be…awaiting the BIRTHday of your first grandchild.
He taught me to send yellow roses to your grandchild on the BIRTHday and yellow roses for each special occasion after that. Yellow roses will become your special signature gift for your grandchildren. Yellow roses mean “joy and friendship”…perfect for Nana-ing. I should confess…I already messed up on the yellow roses part. I didn’t take them for her BIRTHday, her early birth caught me off guard. But Brooklyn Adele will have yellow roses for each special event from this day forward.
Mostly, in 14 short months my dad taught me about play dates. He would call me, not to check on me, but to see if “Jacquers” could come out and play. He took him to his house, he came and played on the floor with him and he even came on his way to the post office just to take him for a ride.
My mom: Even though my mom never got to be a grandmother, I know, given the chance, she would have been amazing. She barely had enough years to be a mom. But I know she loved books, dancing, pets, and fun. She had a great faith (the last thing she gave up was teaching Sunday school) And she had a great imagination. She told us her PF Flyers turned into “Fairy Shoes” and she could always catch us when we ran. So we ran and she chased us and we giggled. Sounds like a strong nana resume to me.
Nanny: My grandmother. My mom’s mom. She had two daughters…my mom and Aunt Peggy. Aunt Peggy died when I was two from Huntington’s Disease. Then her other daughter, my mom, got Multiple Sclerosis. Her husband had emphysema and her life consisted of the guilt of Aunt Peggy’s death, the caring for her invalid daughter, the demands of a sick husband and three little girls moving in with her every single summer. Most grandmas are exhausted after a weekend visit. Nanny had us all summer. Her talents of sewing and writing and athletics were stifled by her generation and her fate. She taught me that a grandmother is truly the heart and soul of a family…especially one in crisis. She taught me that some grandmothers qualify for sainthood. I’m pretty sure this nana won’t be up for saint-dom but I am equally sure that Nanny is among the saints in heaven.
Grandma Martin: My dad’s mom. She lost her husband when her three sons were really young. She moved to America from Canada and began to piece her life together as beautifully as she pieced her quilts together. She taught me that being wrapped in a grandma-made quilt has almost as much comfort as being wrapped in the strength of mother’s love. I already made Brooklyn a quilt. It’s not nearly is beautiful as my grandma’s quilts. But with each stitch to finish it, my thoughts turned to Grandma Martin, her strong Canadian blood, her dedication to family and the love woven in the heart of her granddaughter.
Carol: My sister-in-law who was my mothering mentor….and now my grand-mothering mentor. She has managed that fine and special line of being grandmother and friend to her grandkids. They respect her rules and her expectations and still laugh and giggle their memories alive. They cook together, hike together, go to plays, bookstores and sporting events together. The make memories together.
Mom Barrons: She not only honored me the first time she told me to call her “mom”. She honored my children by signing each card to them “Grandma B”. The one thing I learned from “Grandma B” is that if you do this grandmothering thing right, you will have the utmost respect and love from each of your grandchildren. She not only passed down her faith, her strength, her humor and that laugh of hers…she blessed them all with an incredible love…and they all know it.
Pat Iding: He gave me a St. Anne medal today for my first Mother’s Day as a Nana. Pat Iding not only stands behind everything I try to do. He goes before me to keep me safe and beside me so I don’t walk this grand-parenting trail alone. And…he is the best papa a little girl could ever wish for.
Thank you, St. Anne, my new patron saint, Mother of Mary…queen of heaven. St. Anne is the real caretaker of the village it has taken to raise this nana. How many hours of worry were spent on her grandchild? How many prayers did she whisper in faith or asking for faith? How many minutes were spent just loving Him? I think the greatest comfort a person can have is someone who can say to them “I understand.” So when my nana’s heart is worried, or overflowing with joy, or filled with such gratitude, St. Anne can speak to my heart and in a powerful way say “I understand”.
Lastly, and today most importantly, Brooklyn Adele is the reason for this village it takes to raise a nana. Never having been a nana before, I am not quite sure how to do this Nana-thing. I will need hands-on instructions. Brooklyn Adele will be my teacher. I already know about that stretch of hers, that one hand always up and those crazy arms that have to be free from swaddling. I know that left sock keeps falling off and the face she makes right before the whimper.
I have learned how teeny preemie clothes can be and how fun it is to buy them…even more fun to wash and fold them. I know the immense gratitude you have to her parents for gifting our family with a miracle. Mostly I learned that love at first sight can happen in less than an instant, that seeing your son holding his child is an awe-filled moment, and that you miss a grandchild the minute the car leaves the driveway. You feel giddy that you are so in love with her and amazingly blessed just for being a nana.
It’s quite a list…this village. You can tell I need all the help I can get. God knew that before I did. He saw a nana who couldn’t do it alone so He provided a whole village. I knew all along grandchildren are a gift from God. Turns out the village is quite a gift too. Thank you, Brooklyn Adele. Thank you, God!
(Thank you, Danni Schertzing, for the beautiful photos posted below.)