Ending an Era With Gratitude

Tree of Life afghan, knit with HoneyBee yarn for Baby Wonderful

I've always been noticeably behind my peers in life stages, if you judge those stages by nursery rhymes 

"First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes (insert name here) with a baby carriage!"

With the notable exception of Jimmy Caraway (true name), who slipped an enormous and elaborate valentine into my desk in third grade and had me counting the years until I could marry him, I was always behind the romantic curve. For as long as I could remember marriage and a family were the only things I truly yearned for in life but I didn't date in high school, or in college, or during my first professional job. By the time I'd finished my Peace Corps years unattached I was convinced that I had been the left-over button when God was matching up the buttons and buttonholes of humanity. I was still single with no prospects at age 28.

"Fine!" I finally told the Creator, half acceptance and half defiance. "I'll be the best single person ever. I'll travel, and I'll be the crazy aunt, and I'll take all the classes at the Free University." 

Within weeks of this surrender I met Husband, and directly in my ear heard God laughing. 

Once the nursery rhyme wheels creaked into motion, the love to marriage to baby carriage sequence was fast and joyful. And it turned out I had been right all along: Marriage and family were what my heart knew I needed. Boy#4 was born when Boy#1 was five years old. 

It was during those first sleep-deprived days of motherhood that my own wise mother gave me the best parenting advice I would ever hear. 

"Don't wish away any stage," she told me. "Ever stage has its own delights--you can miss a lot of sweet moments if you're only waiting for them to sleep through the night or walk or whatever you're waiting for."

I have thought of that hundreds, thousands of times over the past 34 years. While I was deliriously tired, I learned to cherish the middle-of-the-night stillness of a nursing baby. I consciously reminded myself that a toddler throwing a tantrum would in a few hours be hugging me straight into his neck. Even when our own Boys followed their parents' example and did not marry young, I consciously appreciated the opportunities that can come to young adults who do not have mortgages.

And while I've been waiting longingly for grandchildren, I've been loving so, so much this stage when the Boys are grown up and finding their Lovely Girls. The Christmas mornings that are unhurried and unscheduled. The solicitude of adult offspring for their parents, and their willingness (nay, eagerness) to drive and navigate. The never carrying luggage because my sons watch out for my wonky shoulder. The late nights listening to them playing board games that are way beyond my comprehension. 

I have not wished this era away, in spite of my delight in looking forward to the next stage of our family's history. 

As I prepare to enter the world of being GrandmaQueenBee, I'm grateful we've had a few years when we've had Lovely Girls in our lives but not yet Babies Wonderful. Even as I knit myself into a carpal-tunneled frenzy of baby blankets and booties, I'm remembering those years with joy and gratitude.

I have loved this stage, and I will love the next one.