Different

It’s no secret that Lucas has had his challenges from a very young age. He didn’t hit all the monthly milestones. He couldn’t walk or talk until he was two. He visited almost every specialist NC has to offer before the age of three. There isn’t a time when Lucas hasn’t been “different”.

On our way to school this morning, the reality of his differences punched me right in the gut. He has a special friend who “gets” him that hasn’t been at school the past few days. I asked him if he has other friends to play with and his response was what I feared. “My friends tell me l can’t play with them because I’m different”.

I held back the tears to remind my precious son that being different is a good thing. I reminded him how amazing and beautiful and loving he is. And most importantly, l reminded him to be kind to others, even if kindness isn’t being shown to him.

There’s a lot of things that make Lucas different. There’s a lot of things he may never see or do. But the thing l love most about his differences, is his ability to overcome those differences and light up every room he enters in the process.

Keep being YOU, my baby boy. You’re the most imperfectly perfect human l know!

Author: Brittany: Lucas’s mom and my granddaughter

Pictures of our sweet boy, and a few of our family members. Life just wouldn’t be the same without Lucas!
Click on any image to enlarge and begin the slideshow

It’s a Baby’s Life

You have made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Psalm 139:13

Because of many complications and surgeries after my tiny, premature baby boy was born, I could never get pregnant again. But, that’s okay. My son provided me with four grandkids, and two of those four have provided me with eight great-grandkids. AWESOME!

Leighton James is great grandbaby #8

Granny Turned Action Figure Hero

voltron

I’m always thinking about stuff like the good old days, the movie I watched last night, the devotional I read, some of the stupid things I did as a kid.

Today I was thinking about Brandon, my first grandchild and had to laugh because instead of calling me grandma or maw maw or any of the typical granny names, he called me Dee Dee. Maybe, because I was the youngest, in his mind I didn’t fit the typical granny image. Maybe He was confused about the role I played in his world, I don’t know. Whatever his reasons, he didn’t have an endearing, grandmotherly name for me. Just Dee Dee.

Brandon loved for me to tell him stories. In the car, at the mall, in the grocery store, on the porch swing . . . everywhere! All I’d hear is, “Tell me a story, Dee Dee! Tell me a story!”

Now, there’s just so many stories a granny can make up about the two of us riding on Mrs. Eagle’s back over the highest mountains or talking to Mr. Tree in the enchanted forest or creeping into a really dark, really spooky house looming deep in the woods. But if I didn’t come up with something he’d drive me crazy until I did. That’s the way it works for those of you who haven’t figured it out yet. 

His most favorite story was when the two of us teamed up with Voltron and battled all the bad guys. We’d wield our shiny swords, conjure up our magic powers and fight till the bitter end. Then, we’d crawl into a cave where we’d regroup and plan out our next sneak attack.

Suddenly, in Brandon’s eyes, Voltron was no longer a plastic action figure. Voltron was his hero, the one who came to his rescue, who bandaged his wounds and killed all the bad guys. Never again would I be just plain old Dee Dee. I was Immortal. I was invincible. I was Dee Dee Voltron!

And after all those stories I had to conjure up, and all those battles I had to fight, I earned that title and wore it well . . . at least in Brandon’s eyes.

Brandon’s now grown with three kids of his own. And, although he no longer begs me to tell him stories, he remembers them all so well. Sometimes I even catch him singing songs to his children that I once sang to him when I couldn’t think of any stories to make up.

To me, grand parenting is not about spoiling children rotten then sending them home. It’s about loving them. It’s about listening to them. It’s about getting eye ball to eye ball on your hands and knees in their little world with them. It’s about hugging and kissing them, holding them close to your beating heart and telling them how smart and brave and special they are. It’s about teaching them to love themselves just the way they are so that they can learn to love others the same way.

Parenting and grand parenting go hand in hand. We are our children’s foundation, their tribe, their school of knowledge and wisdom and understanding. They look up to us. They depend on us. They want and need guidance and protection from us. If we fail in those areas, we fail them. Our broken world is living proof of that.

So, regardless of what your grand-children call you, be the best grandparent you can possibly be. They may not always remember, but you will never forget.

Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.
Proverbs 22:6

 

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