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Second Chances

The two best days of my life were when I learned I was becoming a grandmother. The first time, my son and Amber called and told me they needed to tell me something. It was late on a Thanksgiving afternoon.  It scared me. I thought something must be wrong. My anxiety and I tried to wait patiently. The doorbell rang, and as they stepped into my house, they handed me a gift bag. I could barely breathe at that point. Where was a Xanax?  I reached into the the bag and pulled something out. I was so confused and nervous that I dropped it. As I began to catch my breath, Amber said, “We are pregnant.”  I remember dropping that strange little pregnancy stick. I started to cry. They started to giggle. Ironically , the second time around, I only received a phone call of the next big announcement. The lack of drama did not make a difference. My son was going to have two sons now. Oh how my life changed.

I always loved all of the foo foo clothes for little girls, and just as I had wanted my son to be a daughter, I’d thought I wanted a granddaughter. God knew better. He knew I was to be a mother and grandmother of boys.

Looking back, as an educator, my favorite students were the boys. I had soon realized that they always had my back. Boys are loyal.

So it’s only natural that God gave me boys. Sure... I wanted to buy the leopard print dresses and ruffled leotards. I wanted dance recitals and the latest hair styles. BUT what I didn’t know was what I needed: boys. They may not have been the ones who call often; they don’t chit chat a lot. I’ve missed that. But what is a son good at doing?  When the going gets tough in the mother’s life, he stands up for her.

I often laugh and tell my daughter-in-law... just wait. You will understand it all one day. When your son is being mistreated, you will grow mama claws and attack. Occasionally, I get a phone call... she has grown claws. I just smile.

I digress.

Being a grandmother is a different experience. It’s a woman’s chance to make up for all of her failures as a mother. So yeah, I’m an obsessive grandmother. I’m no longer pursuing a career, living on a low income budget, or dealing with marital problems. What am I?  Everything I wasn’t as a mother. It’s my second chance.

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