A child was born — and now suddenly she’s 50.
In a few days the eldest of my two daughters, Jill, will reach that milestone. Where did time go? Seems like only yesterday I held her in my arms.
I could wax eloquent about all the special moments (some trying) and joy that child has brought to my life. And I will do that when the family gathers for what will surely be a grand celebration. But for now, I just need to do a little reflecting. It’s not that I feel old. No, not at all. Well-seasoned, perhaps, and certainly pleased that I’m here to mark this birthday celebration.
There’s something about having a daughter. Sometimes you see yourself in her and other times you wonder where she came from! The real beauty at this point in my life —and hers — is that we are friends. I am honored when she asks me for advice, whether she heeds it or not, and I regularly seek counsel from her as well.
I’ve also been thinking about other important females in my life. Like the second daughter who will reach that age in a few short years. Both girls are mothers themselves, and I think they’re really good ones. Makes me proud.
I reflect, too, on women in my family who were role models in parenting and life. My mother, with only an eighth grade education, was a dedicated farm wife and savvy business woman. My husband’s grandmother, a registered nurse when few women reached that goal. And my mother-in-law who raised three sons, then excelled as an educator after a failed marriage.
I learned from all of them as I raised my family. I’m so glad they were a part of my life.
Today I look at my two beautiful granddaughters and wonder where life will take them, hoping I can somehow transfer a bit of elder wisdom to them and be a role model.
I’m really blessed to continue to have so many females in my life. Take for instance my next door neighbors — six darling little girls, three on each side, all under the age of 5. They call me Grandma Kate. At a “tea party” I hosted for them this week, as one of them settled onto my lap for storytime, I looked at the book I was about to read to them. It was one of Jill’s books.
Oh, these girl memories.