The Gift of Grand- and Godparents

I never knew my grandparents.

My godfather is dead (may he rest in peace) but my godmother? She’s one of my very best friends.

What a gift, then, to get to know one’s extended family! When I am old and gray and full of sleep, these memories will sustain me.  That…and embarrass my children, of course. “Do you remember how Mom always had her camera?” they’ll say. “My gosh, she took pictures of everything!”

But I’ll be old at that point so they’ll forgive me.

My girls had a Granddaughters’ Weekend this past weekend. They stayed with Grandma and Grandpa and saw The Wizard of Oz on Friday. They had tea with Grandma in her bed; they read books and played Wii and sipped fun, fizzy drinks

Note: Francis and I tagged along just for fun. One, I love spending time at my in-laws cozy home on the river and two, Grandma’s got a rockin’ Bernina sewing machine that she lets me use.

(Priorities, you know. It was either sew or stay home & clean my bathroom.)

However. On Tuesday of last week, I got a call from my friend in Atlanta. They moved down there over five years ago and were coming home (!) for a play here in town. “We can get together!” my friend Tanya said. “No, we can’t!” I cried. “The girls and I are going North.”

Godmommies! I took these photos after Mass on Sunday.

We shuffled the schedule and got the best of both worlds: Grandparents and Godparents in one fell swoop.

Lots and lots of God-cousins!

These girls and I go way, way back. I love them to pieces and they, in turn, put up with me.

Full length shot of my friend, Tina, who’s stylin’.  Note: I’m wearing jeans ’cause we drove straight there from Grandma’s. (This was fairly mortifying.)

Anyway. I know most of you don’t know these people, but I do and for that, I am richly blessed. I knew a Christian psychologist once who said that as humans, our greatest fear is fear of loneliness. Almost all of actions, he posited, were based on trying to avoid this fear.

My mother-in-law knit this sweater herself! I am in awe, and want to be her when I grow up.

Kind of deep, huh? But it makes me think.

It also makes me very thankful for the gift of connections and for this place called “home”.  It’s true, what they say: There’s no place like home…

…and home, dear friend, is where your heart is.