Life is...

I was rereading an old post and came across the one about our bird feeders.  I had to laugh.  Those bird feeders are now sitting empty on their hooks on the deck.  They have been empty for almost a month.  Not because we can't afford bird feed, or forget to buy it, or got tired of the bullying black birds chasing everyone else away.  No, they sit empty cause we got tired of bird poop all over our deck.  Joe scrubbed it all down, and we haven't filled the bird feeders since.

At the moment I am in one of those cynical moods I rarely allow myself (too many other cynics in the household).  But the bird feeders seem a pretty accurate picture of the way life goes much of the time.  I intend something good, giving, compassionate, peaceful, and it all ends up poop.  I know that the truth is that all things work together for good, that there is a purpose, and an end which I rarely see.  But at the moment if feels like poop.

Thankfully there is a hope inside me, that even I can't suppress.   I have bought a large bag of bird seed.  I've figured out an alternate location for the feeders. Somewhere where they can poop away and it will just end up in the grass. I may even get them up and filled in the next day or two and we'll be back to our endless amusement watching birds come and go.

As far as the other, more bothersome poop in my life.  I'm clueless.  The solutions don't seem nearly so accessible or easy.  So I pray.  Sometimes thats all I can do.

I am a Grandparent

Wow!  I had no idea.  I had no idea what it would be like for my child to have a child.  It is awesome.  It is heart enlarging.  It is so much like having another child of my own.  It is good.

Little Olive was born last Thursday at 3:30 am.

 A bit overdue, her birth was much anticipated.  From the benefit of hindsight I encouraged Megan to relax and enjoy the last moments before Olives arrival, her world would never be the same again.  Well that was a purely pragmatic perspective.  Thinking in terms of never being alone again, always having someone else to also  get ready when you leave the house,  having to put someone else first in a way you don't necessarily even do with your spouse.  But I had lost sight of the explosion of love that takes place in your heart when your baby emerges in this world.  Now I remember.

Olive and Megan were amazing during the birth.  Megan worked harder than she ever has (which is something as she is naturally industrious).  She persevered through long, continuous contractions, working with her body to birth Olive.  Olive endured it well.

I am so proud of Megan.  She started labor knowing it would be the most painful, exhausting event of her life, completely focused on how God designed her body to birth this child and preparing herself to work with it; researching what would be the safest, best birth experience for Olive and choosing that.  That is the definition of a Mother.

So now I have to figure out what it means to be a Grandmother.  This is uncharted territory.  I feel  a love for her that rivals what I feel for my own children.  But I realize she is not my daughter, she is Megan and Joshs, they are her parents, they will care for her in the way that I feel inclined to.  So my relationship with her will be something different.  I just don't know what that different is.  I guess I will follow my heart, listen well, and be mindful of how I can best love them as a family.  A unique family, within my own.