As we near the end of two weeks with four grandchildren, I
am once again overwhelmed with the woman that I reference as my friend and my
wife.
Often, we are grouped as “grandparents” when, in fact, only
one is “grand” and the other as the fortunate beneficiary of such goodness and
love. For me, it has never gets old to be a participating witness to a story
that never quits. The scene may change and the actors are different, but the
storyline remains so vibrant, if the same.
I recently analogized the negotiations surrounding the
selection of a movie that would meet the expectations of these four
grandchildren as comparable to negotiating peace between Israel and Gaza.
Obviously, the comparison limps badly since our negotiations were successful
and there was no blood. Possibly, the talents of this woman could be utilized
by the United Nations to weave a path to peace.
While we cannot recall clearly our earlier experience with
our own children, this version of history triggers so many happy feelings of
yesterday when we were parenting our three children. The earlier story turned
out well because of this woman’s talents and love. All of the past rushes into my present experience as I see
her weave her magic over another generation.