Gramma Dora's Wisdom

Last night the phone rang later than usual-maybe 9:30. I answered. "Hi Amy," came a voice that I know in a millisecond. Amazing, isn't it, how among the hundreds of people you know, you recognize most voices so quickly. But this voice is one I have known for 37 years, so I know it faster than most. "Hi Gramma Dora!" I answer.

She is tired, recovering from a minor surgery. I hear it in her voice before she tells me so, but she assures me that she's doing well. She tells me she's called, in part, to ask what Sawyer wants for his upcoming birthday. We talk for a while about this and other things.

My sister has been a much better friend and confidante to Gramma over the years. I can't even dream of being as thoughtful and giving as Molly is when it comes to long distance care and love to her. I blame it on my kids and career, but I also need to blame it on my capacity. I can't burn the candle like Molly can. I feel sorry that I haven't been an in-person care giver, and I'm envious and grateful that Molly has.

But still, I hold Gramma very dear. She has always been sweet and sincere with me. I catch her smirking at my irreverence. Sometimes she even scolds me when I push the envelope, but I can tell it's superficial --she likes feisty and she can't help laughing. If I could, I'd crawl into a time machine to sit with her at 30 to see how fiesty she was before the years mellowed her.

She had a sister named Alice, and I think they had a friendship like I have with Molly. I remember them laughing hysterically when they got together... Maybe we share that common bond, too. In any case, I love her, and I think it's sweet that she calls and emails me from time to time and reads my blog often (hi gramma!)

So I confided that I was worried about sending Haakon and Sawyer on the school bus next week. I told her that I worried about them being on the bus for so long, about the route... they are so small, afterall. Haakon is only four! She told me that she never had the privilege of riding a bus to school....(life is so different now).... And then she added... "well, why don't you send them on the bus? If they don't like it or don't feel good about it, they'll tell you."

I assume that Grammas across the nation worry and fret needlessly. And Gramma Dora is a champion worrier. But the simple elegance of her suggestion; trust your kids instincts, rose above that worry. Why am I predicting problems? It could be a marvelously empowering thing for them to take a (safe, monitored) school bus through a decent part of St. Paul to school. They are smart, good kids -- of course they'll tell us if it isn't right. It's not reckless.

So I am taking these words to heart. I'll cry when they get on the bus, that's for sure, but I will let them live and be. And after Day One of school, I have a hunch I will see cherry cheeked, smiling faces ...that thought the busride was amazing.