Monday, July 12, 2010

You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give. ~ Kahlil Gibran


I got a phone call Saturday afternoon from my son. "Mom, you have a grandson here who's wanting to talk to you. Do you have a minute?"

"Well, sure," said I.

And on the line comes Dylan. Crying. "Grandma, I'm really missing you!"

"Well, sweetheart, I'm really missing you, too. But you'll be coming over tomorrow afternoon for an hour or so."

"I know, Grandma, but I'm missing you right now!"

How quickly, as we grow older, we forget the urgency and the intensity of our childhood emotions. If I think back on the time when my mother had foot surgery and my two older brothers and I were sent off to stay with some very close out-of-town family friends for the week she was on crutches...I was 6 at the time...I still can feel the absolute misery and feelings of abandonment deep in my gut. I had never been away from home before that, and at the age of 6 that week felt like an eternity. I have never been so homesick in my life. Never again do I want to feel that abject sense of missing someone.

When my son dropped Dylan off yesterday afternoon he told me that Dylan had said to him after he got off the phone, "Daddy, I'm having a really bad day!" So as I took Dylan out for a walk I asked him, "Why were you having such a bad day, Dyl?" and he told me, "Because I was missing you so much."

I love the fact that he loves me. But I don't want that love to be a burden to him. And I'm sure as he grows older and the parameters of his life broaden out he'll depend on me less and less for security. Which is the way it should be. But right now I bask in the warmth of his love. And Coopy's, too. Cooper's is deep and intense as well, but he's of a more independent nature. His love is in the here and now. Dylan wears his heart on his sleeve. Their love is not a burden to me, that's for sure. It's a gift, and one I am thankful for and treasure every day. And I never ever want to do anything to jeopardize it, to take it for granted. Because they don't have to love me. They choose to love me. I can't make them love me. But I am grateful they do.

6 comments:

Judy said...

Sooooo precious.

Seriously. I know another four year old who loves like that.

Oh, how I wish we were neighbors...

Rob-bear said...

That is just so sweet! You are a very fortunate woman to be loved like that. And to share that love.

Gibran was right about so many things. I reflect regularly on his wisdom.

Anita said...

Your grandsons will have such an appreciation for your blog when they are grown; maybe sooner. I hope you will have it printed by one of the blog printing companies. Or maybe you already do.

Unknown said...

Oh Kris, this is so beautiful. I love how you put this all together.

Nancy/BLissed-Out Grandma said...

Children's love is such a gift! I wouldn't worry about his love for you being a burden to him...he was just missing something he really values. And he learned (again) that you're still there for him even if you're apart for a little while. (We're missing our grands, who are on a 3-week trip to see the Montana grandparents.)

~mel said...

Grandloves are the best!! My three granddaughters just melt my heart when they say "I love you." Bailey, she always says,"I missed you" when she sees me ~ it doesn't matter if it was a week ago since we last saw each other or if it was 3 hours since our last visit. You have some wonderful Grandloves Kris and they have some wonderful Grands!!