Grandparents’ Legacy of Love
by Claudia Goodman
One summer when our children were very small, Steve said to me, “We need to take the children to Granna’s farm.” Granna was Steve’s grandmother who lived on a tiny, dusty farm in southeastern Arizona. It was an eighteen-hour drive from our home, and we could only stay for a day. I was amazed at how tiny the house was-it barely held all of us stretched out end-to-end on the floor to sleep. But when we greeted Granna and basked in her love, the long trip faded into oblivion. We splashed through “Granna’s River,” and our cares dissolved as peace washed over us with the waves. We loved it so much that we returned year after year. Even our teenage children dropped whatever they were doing to join us in the long car ride to Granna’s house.
Why were the cords that pulled us there so strong? Over the years I have become aware of several priceless gifts that Granna shared with us-gifts that perhaps only grandparents, or those acting as grandparents, can give.
First, grandparents offer a unique BUFFER OF LOVE.
When our first child, Shawn was born at 2:30 in the morning, the first people we called were our parents. We knew they would be excited, but we were not prepared for the exhilaration that they were just as thrilled about this precious baby as we were. Over the next weeks and months I called my mother so many times, just to say, “Guess what! Shawn smiled for the first time todayhe just got his first toothhe slept through the night” We lived those experiences together.
As our family attended the funeral of our great-grandfather, I noticed a very interesting phenomenon. Those who were weeping and struggling the most were not his brothers, sisters, or children. They were a few of his grandchildren-the ones with the long hair, multiple earrings, and scruffy clothes-the ones who had not served missions and were not active in the church-the ones who had experienced drugs, divorce, and heartache. Why did this crippled old man mean so much to them? Because he had seen beyond their rough exterior, loved them unconditionally, and accepted them as they were.
Grandparents have a unique vantage point. W hile parents love their children deeply, they must also discipline them and follow through on their behavior. If grandparents try to assume that disciplinary role, it backfires on them and prevents them from ministering to some of their grandchildren’s greatest needs. One grandmother told me of a time that she tended three of her grandchildren while their parents were away on a trip. They were not very well disciplined, and she was excited for this opportunity to “whip them into shape”. She did so very effectively, but when the week was over, her grandchildren no longer wanted to come to her house or even talk to her. She realized that she had made a mistake.
After talking to her Grandma Johnson on the phone, our four-year-old granddaughter Lucy said, “Mommy, Grandma loves me.” She knew. The abiding love of a grandparent, given freely without judgment can be one of the most powerful forces in a child’s life. It is the perfect compliment to the parents’ efforts in the home.
The second gift that grandparents give is UNHURRIED TIME. That gift is becoming infinitely more precious as the pressures of the world mount around us. Caught in the pressures of diaper-changing, cooking, car pooling, helping with homework, laundry, cleaning house, etc., often parents have little time to do additional special things to show love to their children. Grandparents are often in a position to come to the situation fresh and fill in that gap.
It was Presidents’ Day, a vacation from school. Our older children faced a real dilemma. Several of their friends had invited them to go do something. The children debated back and forth, but in the end they chose to do the thing they wanted to do most-go to Grandma’s house to play games.
Some of our children’s fondest memories are Valentines and Easter packages mailed from grandparents, containing candies and cards. They loved GranNomi’s (Steve’s mom) stories, which she read on cassette tapes and sent along with the books. They were a great way for the children to remember her, even though she lived far away. They also freed me to do household chores while they were happily occupied.
The children eagerly anticipated their turn to take a summer vacation with Grandpa and Grandma when we lived in another state. Grandpa was a fantastic tour guide. Then there was the annual tradition of having a sleepover with them for their birthday when we lived close. No matter who else might forget their birthday, the grandparents never did!
We all delighted in the adorable clothes GranNomi sewed for the children. When one of our children was asked in Primary what he liked about his grandpa, he replied, “He takes me to the dump.” Grandad took the grandchildren with him to deposit the prunings from his yard, but of course the best part was stopping at 7-Eleven on the way home for a treat!
One of the greatest blessings of my life was a brief period of time when I had five preschoolers, including a brand new baby. My mother volunteered to take all the children every Friday morning so I could have a break. The children looked forward to it all week (so did I!) and still talk about the fun they had playing Candyland with Grandma-with real candy!
Because Grandpa and Grandma lived close to BYU, several of their grandchildren attended there at the same time. Grandma initiated a weekly “Cousins Dinner” that carried on for several years. All the cousins and their spouses were invited. It not only provided time for them to visit and get close to each other, but it also saved them considerable money and time on their meager budgets. After one cousin had graduated and moved back to Texas, he was traveling to the west coast to meet some friends for spring break. He drove out of his way to go through Provo, called Grandma and asked if they could have a “Cousins Dinner.” On two hours notice, most of the cousins assembled for a wonderful reunion and dinner together.
Parents don’t usually have time to initiate these kinds of activities, but grandparents do. Because they don’t have the constant burden of care, they can nurture their grandchildren and give them the unhurried time they so desperately need.
The third thing grandparents can do is offer a clear view of the BIG PICTURE. They have lived long enough to give their children and grandchildren glimpses of true perspective, gained through years of experience.
Grandad is always reminding us to “Reduce and simplify.” His life is a great example of that principle. Grandpa’s sayings include, “It will pass,” and “It all depends,” both of which come in handy regularly.
One of the things I loved most about going to Granna’s farm was the feeling of calm that came over me. It was away from the world and helped me to realize that the tiny crises in my life were merely that. Like her river, they would flow on by, tempered by the deeper undercurrent.
It’s important for grandparents to remember that their children and grandchildren may not take their advice. There are some things they must try and learn for themselves. Perhaps the most powerful tool of all is the grandparents’ example. Even if it takes awhile for the lessons to sink in, their lives will be a beacon for their posterity.
Have you ever had a moment when you looked at your children and sensed that their greatness superceded anything you could possibly have done for them? That they had been strengthened by a power far beyond your own?
Grandparents are in a unique position to offer ANCHORING ROOTS to their posterity. Many times I have sensed these words pronounced in a priesthood blessing: “You come from a line of believing blood.” So much of the goodness in our lives comes from our roots-through our grandparents, their parents, and beyond.
On our way back from Granna’s one year, we stopped to see Steve’s Uncle Chet, who had fought on the front lines under General Patton in World War II. For hours we sat spellbound listening to his tales. As we drove home, words came to my mind. I grabbed a paper plate lying on the floor (the only paper I could see) and began to write.
They dreamed of finding freedom
To worship and to live,
But they never claimed it;
They died for it instead.
Yet they passed the spark along
From father down to son
And their children’s children’s children
Lived by the light they’d won.
Listen, listen, you can hear them cry:
Pass it on, pass it on!
Take the gift they held so true.
Pass it on, pass it on!
They paid the price for you
For years our grandparents have held a monthly family dinner on fast Sunday afternoon. It’s a great chance for the cousins to get together and for the adults to cement their relationships. Two years ago one of the young cousins went into life-threatening convulsions. His father asked his six-year-old daughter to run to the neighbors for help. She ran up the street in the dark, but the neighbors weren’t home. She didn’t stop until she found their home teacher several blocks away and secured the help they needed. Katie Jo had always been petrified of the dark. Afterward her father and mother marveled that she was able to run that far alone. Then the feeling came to them that she was not alone but was accompanied by a guardian angel, perhaps her little cousin who had died two years earlier in a car accident. They had become close friends at the monthly family dinners.
One of the best suggestions I have heard is that instead of buying things for their grandchildren, grandparents could write a story from their life for them every week and mail it to them. They could tell how things were when they grew up, what their parents’ lives were like, lessons they learned, funny incidents, faith-promoting lessons. One of my older children’s fond memories was family home evenings when their grandparents told them stories of their ancestors. And my most vivid memory of my grandmother was sitting on her lap while she told me about the time her family attended the Manti Temple dedication and heard a choir of angels sing.
While all these gifts from our grandparents are priceless, perhaps the greatest gift they can bestow is INFUSION OF TESTIMONY.
There has come a time in our lives when the adorable homemade dresses and quilts, the trips to the dump, the cousins dinners, and birthday sleepovers have been put on hold. Each of our parents have served three missions-Steve’s at the Provo Temple, the London England Mission, and the Atlanta Temple; Claudia’s in the London South Mission, the Brazil Sao Paulo North Mission, and the Salt Lake City Family History Mission.
We miss the beautiful clothes and quilts, the fun dinners together, and the best babysitters in the world. And most of all we miss just spending time with them, and they miss watching the grandchildren grow and change, attending baptisms, missionary farewells, and weddings. Two or three years away from grandchildren are a long time. But we have found the sacrifice to be infinitely worth it.
I’ll never forget GranNomi standing to bear her testimony at a family reunion after returning from London. She looked the girls directly in the eye and said, “Sister missionaries are a great strength to the Lord’s work. If you aren’t married, I hope every one of you girls will serve a mission.” The impact of her testimony was immeasurable.
Our oldest son Shawn left on his mission to London two weeks after my parents returned from London South. They talked and laughed and cried together as they shared suggestions and experiences. No one could have been more excited for Shawn’s mission than they were.
Grandparents have supported and sustained our children on their missions more than we can express, and the blessings have flowed. Because of their example, every one of our children has had a burning desire to serve a mission. Such commitment comes from more than just having strong parents.
My mother told me that once when she was serving in Brazil she had a strong feeling that she was needed at home. She was very concerned but felt powerless to help. As she opened her scriptures, her eyes fell upon the words, “Verily, thus saith the Lord unto you, my friends, your families are well; they are in mine hands, and I will do with them as seemeth me good; for in me there is all power.” (D&C 100:1) Peace and comfort flooded her soul, and she was able to immerse herself in the work.
While my parents were on one of their missions, my sister Ruth was scheduled to be sealed to her husband in the Provo Temple. I called from Colorado and told her that Steve and I were coming to be with her. She replied, “Oh, no, it’s too far.”
I said, “Ruth, this is the most important thing you will do for the rest of your life, and I’m not going to miss it.”
When we arrived, Ruth said, “I’m so glad you came. Nobody else can be there.”
Before the ceremony began, we were moved to a larger sealing room. There were several empty chairs. I was privileged to sit next to Ruth in place of my mother. As the ceremony proceeded, I began to cry. At first I didn’t understand, but gradually I realized that someone was sitting in every empty chair, many of whom I recognized-our little brother and sister who had died in infancy, our grandparents, and even our own parents were there in spirit. After the ceremony I put my arms around Ruth and said, “Ruth, you were wrong. Everybody came.”
She looked at me through tears and nodded. “I know,” she said.
If we sacrifice for the Lord, we can only reap His choicest blessings. It is our personal testimony through the six missions our parents have served, that the children and grandchildren are infinitely blessed in their absence, even more greatly than if they had stayed at home. The payment for a few years apart has been a priceless legacy of testimony, deep commitment to the gospel, pure joy, and unspeakable love. Elder Robert D. Hales, an apostle of the Lord, has given us the promise,
“If we are willing to leave our loved ones for service in the mission field, we will bless them with a heritage that will teach and inspire them for generations to come.” Our parents are living witnesses to his words.
In Restrospect
Time races on, and a few years ago Granna was buried near the river that was such a part of our lives. As I stood alone on its banks, I realized that I was no longer a new bride wading in Granna’s River for the first time or a young mother watching my children splash on each other and float on logs. I was a grandmother for the very first time!
“What shall we call you?” my oldest son asked.
I caught my breath as I wondered if I could ever live up to the name of a person I had loved so much. Could I ever do it justice? On the other hand, would her name be buried with her? I smiled as warm, happy memories flooded over me. “Granna,” I replied.
2001 Meridian Magazine. All Rights Reserved.
