Pretty Normal

So I was in Atlanta last week for the birth of Grace Catherine Broggi.  My son Jordan and his wife, Maureen, had their fourth baby. It was such a sweet time with them and I can't believe my son has four little ones!  Seems like yesterday I was having my fourth baby and now I have seven grandchildren. 


I'm getting old. I don't feel it.  In fact, every time I am with my grandchildren, I feel like I've jumped in a time travel machine - the years roll back and I'm right there again.  And you know what helps with that?  Leggings and tunic tops!   Why, you ask?  Well, they were a fashion statement in the eighties when my children were little - I lived in them -  and they're back . . . 


Anyway, Jack and Luke came back to Beaufort with us for a few days.  It's always fun to have them.  Always.  I absolutely love it. 


And so on this trip, I had not yet gotten a Christmas tree nor had I hung the stockings.  Don't judge me, please.  See, I purchased this little 3 foot tree last year - it looks SO REAL and I put it on a table and it made me feel all festive. And then with Josh Groban holiday music playing on Pandora all the time - well, let's just say my home seemed Christmasy even without a big tree.


But last night I told Jack and Luke that TODAY, I would get out my box of special ornaments that Grandma Hill made and they could help me put them on my little tree.  And we when got a bigger tree, we'd move them.  So first thing this morning, they were helping me put Grandma Hill's crochet ornaments on my tree. 


They were fascinated with the fact that she made them by hand so many years ago and that I still had a box full of them.  How did she make them?  What is crochet?  That was hard, wasn't it?  That took a lot of time, didn't it?  That was a special thing, wasn't it?  Did you thank her for them?


I told them how my grandma liked to be busy with her hands and she loved to make things for her family. After we placed all those ornaments on the tree, we then hung the stockings she made.   I told them I only had five because she reached a point in her life when she couldn't crochet anymore. My mom made our last two stockings.  


They asked many questions about Grandma Hill.  They both said they wished they knew her.  "Was I just a little baby when she died?" Jack asked.  "How about me?" Luke added.


"Oh no, Jack and Luke, y'all weren't even born.  Your parents weren't married yet.  Grandma Hill died in 1998 - think about it this way, Uncle Jameson was 4 years old, almost 5 - that's how long ago it was."


"Oh," they said.  So then we  talked about getting old and dying.  We talked about how sin spoiled everything - and that was sad - but we also talked about how God redeems everything.  It's so obvious to me how Jordan and Maureen have been teaching the Bible to them.  And seriously, I was thinking how that's the way it's supposed to be.  Psalm 78 lived out.

The next thing they asked about Grandma Hill was, "What do you think she's doing in heaven?"  


"Enjoying Jesus.  And . . . waiting for us!  You'll know her one day."


That will be fun.


Then they wanted to know how old she would be if she were still alive, "You know, alive on earth?"


I said, "Ninety-nine."

"That's old!" 

And that launched into a conversation about me - Amma - and how I was old - imagine that - but not that old.  Oh good.  


Not yet, anyway.  They told me how they wanted to bring their grandchildren to see me one day. 


I said,  "I probably won't be around then, boys or if I am, I'll be really, really old like Grandma Hill if she were alive."


Jack said, "I'm glad you're not that old now.  Cause you do things with us. And you don't look old either."

Wow. Earlier they told me I was old.  But now, they were telling me I didn't look old.  This was good.  


This was starting to sound like a compliment . . . so to further this complimentary conversation, I asked, "So, since you don't think I look old, you must think I look young.  Do you think I look young, Jack?"

Big mistake.

He replied laughing just a little, "No, Amma, you don't look young - you just look normal."

"Normal?  Are you sure I don't look young?"


"No, Amma, I said you look normal."  


Now Luke, who had been quietly working on ornaments and stockings most of the time, finally added with a flare,  "Amma, don't you know you look pretty normal?"

I guess so.


I walked into the kitchen and looked at myself in a mirror. Hmmm, the boys were right.   I don't look young. I've certainly got those fifty-something lines, wrinkles, and a few gray hairs. And yeah, those will increase as the years go by . . . until the Lord either takes me home or He comes for His church.

So I guess for now, I look pretty normal. 


Luke had said "Amma, don't you know you look pretty normal?"  But I know what he meant.  He meant pretty AND normal.

At least that's how I'm taking it!