"I don't wanna be a grama!" 4 year-old Haylee announced a few nights ago. I countered, "Sure you do; being a grama is wonderful!" She deepened her resolve. "Gramas get old; they die."
Ah ha! "They die." That explains it. She'd been talking about that quite often these days. One of the reasons she didn't want to go to heaven was because she knew folks didn't go there unless they died. "But I've been a grama a real long time and I haven't died," I consoled. She thought a minute and said, "But they aren't pretty." Horrors! Gramas "aren't pretty"?
"Are you saying grama isn't pretty?" She looked at me sheepishly and swallowed, shook her head no. She didn't seem quite certain. I knew what she was looking at. I'd just come from the Water Park...no makeup...frazzled hair...frumpy comfy tee-shirt. A princess, I was not. Perhaps she didn't want to say what she really thought because she knew her thoughts weren't kind to say to anyone, especially a grama she loved. Sixteen-year-old, Jordy, admonished, "Haylee, you shouldn't say that." Inwardly I cracked up, managing only a giggle and smile of assurance to Jordy. Jordy didn't want to hurt my feelings. Haylee was in a quandry; she looked at her elder brother, then at me. She squirmed and wiggled in her seat on the coffee table. The word "grama" just didn't equal "pretty's' definition.
I finally took the heat off her and said, "But your mommy is a grama. Don't you think she is pretty?" Without hesitation, she returned, "Yes...but Mommy's not old." It was all I could do not to burst out laughing. Of course she is right, her mommy isn't old and a few weeks ago, Haylee said I wasn't old. And at times I think I'm not old. Then at times like these, I must admit...I do. While I don't think I need to wear a bag over my head just yet, I know I'm not a contender for the cover of Vogue Magazine, either. Not everyone was born Rachel Welch. Let's face it; if one were to choose a synonym for pretty, "old" would not be on the list.
There seems to be a kind of fear in growing old, but for me, it's all in how ya look at it. At least if you're getting old, you're still breathing. Even if you aren't pretty. selahV
[copyrighted, SelahV Today, by Hariette Petersen, 2009]