Incomprehensible By Dr. Juan Harrison

I’m not making a judgment.  It’s simply beyond my comprehension.  My wife and I live for the times we get to keep the grandkids for the kids’ weekly date night and any other time they need us to have em at their house or ours.  From time to time we hear about or discover a grandma or grandpa who may tell you they aren’t really crazy about keeping the grands very much.  I know the Bible tells us in the end times that some women will lose their natural affection for their children, but as a grandparent I can’t imagine not having that special grandbaby love in our lives.

For most of us older folks who practically live for the affection of those sweethearts who can do no wrong; it’s incomprehensible.  We loved it when our first and second born arrived and filled up our lives.  Then came the over-the-top explosion of ush and gush when those sweet grandbabies took over our lives.  Most grandparents will tell you there aren’t enough adjectives in our language to describe how much those sweet thangs come to mean in your lives as they crawl up into your lap with books in hand for you to read  for the 40^th time, or maybe they want to snuggle as those sticky fingers leave handprints on your heart. 

How did we ever live without em.  Sure, they wear you out, turn half the house into a wreck, and leave a trail of cookie crumbs and half-eaten doughnuts lying around, but big deal.  Yes, they disrupt your dull, orderly, sometimes lonely lives, but somewhat like the old phrase about parting is such sweet sorrow, cleaning up and straightening the remains of human tornados is a labor of love for our tired old bodies.

I guess I question the condition of the human grandparent heart that selfishly prefers to not have their lives disrupted and turned upside down by noisy, messy, sticky hands and sometimes wet, poopy bottoms.  You can throw some things into the washer and other things into the trash.  You can put everything back into its proper place to wait for the next cyclone.

When the tornado goes out the door and silence descends upon the house, are you richer or poorer for the time you’ve been blessed to share with the grands.  I had a good friend with a mountain of money who once looked into my eyes and said to me, “You are rich.”  I laughed until I arrived at my poorhouse thinking about the lonely life she lives while I tried to not step on any toys left strewn on the floor.  My friend could see the invaluable investments we had made over time in those blessings that totally fill our little world.

By Dr. Juan Harrison