When my daughter told me she was pregnant, I informed her that I didn’t want to be called anything with the word “maw” in it. Although I loved the child before he was born, in my mind I wasn’t old enough to be called “grand-maw”. After much thought, I decided on “Meme”. I’d heard other grandmothers called that, and thought it suited me well.
I witnessed my grandson’s arrival. He was named Caleb. Tears streamed at the sight of new life; especially coming from my child. I could still see the fingerprints of God on the newborn. My daughter went into labor a month before her due date, so the baby had a lot of fighting to do. He was in and out of the hospital several times in the first year of his life. God had His Mighty Hands on Caleb and he made it through the rough year and became a healthy toddler.
Caleb is now ten years old. I, also, have a granddaughter. Her name is Carlie. She is three. We have to watch her closely, because she will say I love you and bop you in the head with the remote control at the same time. Carlie is, to say the least, a character. We wouldn’t have her any other way.
The love that I have for my grandchildren is like no other love. I love my daughter and I love my grandchildren, equally. There is a difference in the love, though. Don’t ask me to explain that, because I cant. I can’t explain the awesome love of Jesus either. What would make our Lord and Savior die an awful, inconceivable death just because He loved us? Again, I don’t know, but I’m so thankful that He did.
I love to hear my grandchildren call my name. Meme, Meme, Meme; I could listen to those angelic sounds for eternity. Jesus loves for us to call His name as well. Not just in bad times when we are in need, but in our good times, as well. Wonder what God’s children calling His name, sounds like to Him?
I struggled with becoming a grandmother at an early age, until the children were born. I fought against the children calling me grandmother, too. Now, I don’t care what my grandchildren call me, as long as they call me.