I’d been warned about this. About the mental click that changes everything when you move from Mom to Grandma, but even with the warnings, I didn’t get it.
Now, 15 months later, I see it, feel it, embrace it.
It is the jar of looking in the mirror and seeing a strip of silver hair running from the edge of my hairline to the crown of my head. Little lines of silver easily covered by my amazing stylist Kellie Mahaffey no longer so easily covered. Oh, she can get rid of the grey, but the upkeep on that color is $$$ with the grey there now.
It’s the shock of thin skin under my chin and on the back of my hands. Looking in the mirror and seeing my mother 😊, knowing I’m older now than she was when DD was born.
It’s the memories of weekends spent with Grandma and listening to Grandpa preach from the pulpit and still risking the stealth whisper to a friend in the pew next to me. And feeling like those days were a million moons ago.
It’s a cliche, but time truly does fly by. For 15 months I’ve fallen into this crazy funk of Netflix and Shonda Rhimes induced escapism. Escapism from the passage of seconds and minutes and hours and days and months and years.
I’m done with that now.
From here on I promise to embrace my seconds. Grandma is a state of mind, a beautiful part of life. ❤️