Reflections on “Gramma Camp” 2011

Sometimes a solitary, long drive in the car provides time for reflecting on the simplest but most important things in life.

Just a few hours ago as I drove north toward home on the interstate, my eyes stung with salty tears and my throat tightened with short sobs.

What provoked the melancholy? Heading in exactly the opposite direction was a car filled with one of my daughters, her two daughters and a backseat full of luggage and memorabilia.

My car—though now empty—still held the fragrance of my teen granddaughter’s citrus body splash, echoes of laughter over the fact that we both know the lyrics to songs from the ’80s, the shared terror of an immensely high Ferris wheel ride and the melodic strains from one of her favorite CDs.

Like many of you, I’m a long-distance grandma.

A prayer and a squeal

Two weeks ago I stood in the arrivals section of the airport awaiting our older granddaughter’s flight. Whose anticipation was more keenly attuned—hers or mine? I squealed when I saw her turn the corner, skinny-jeaned legs striding toward me, cell phone in locked position next to her ear, long dark hair swinging with each step.

But wait—who was this lovely young woman? Wasn’t it just last year she was a gangly-legged, awkward little 9-year-old who’d asked her mommy if she could she spend a month with Grandma and Grandpa in Ohio?

Years before that, knowing geography would separate me from my grandchildren, I submitted a request to God in prayer: Would He grant a special relationship with this grandchild in spite of the fact numerous states and hundreds of miles separated us? It took nine years for the answer, but what an answer it has been!

Oh, it wasn’t as though we hadn’t had our times together—we’d taken long trips to the southeastern seaboard to visit them. They’d come our direction to visit us.

But six years ago came the unprompted request: “For my 10th birthday, I’d like to spend a month with Grandma and Grandpa in Ohio.”

That sure sounded like answered prayer to me!

Gramma Camp

And so began a tradition that for the past seven summers we’ve given the moniker, “Gramma Camp.”

We have traveled together to other states to visit extended family where she has brightened the lives of aging aunts and uncles while enriching her own family-ties history. She has seen the St. Louis Gateway Arch and the Westward Expansion Museum; Busch Stadium (oh yes, we turned her into a Cardinals fan!) and Progressive Field (okay, we’re Tribe fans too); the Missouri, Mississippi and Ohio Rivers; the Lincoln Museum and cemetery; zoo upon zoo upon zoo; batting cages; miniature golf courses; ice cream stands (Ruby’s is outstanding!); and Niagara Falls.

She introduced me to the first two movies in the Spiderman trilogy; I introduced her to Singing in the Rain. She doesn’t like vegetables and I don’t like daytime TV, but we both love photography and the concept of living near the beach.

But two weeks came and went in a blink; and it was too soon time to say good-bye.

Reflections

I had some alone time in the car—time for reflections. They aren’t monumental, earth-shattering or life-changing, but if you have a minute, may I share them with you?

• Life is short. Jesus’ half-brother, James, wrote, “For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away” (James 4:14).

As I build a relationship with my granddaughter, I am reminded of how quickly life has blasted past. My own three children grew up in what now seems an instant; that reality, of and by itself, saddens me.

Moses wrote, “The days of our lives are seventy years; and if by reason of strength they are eighty years, yet their boast is only labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away. … So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:10-12).

Each day is a gift, and I will treasure these extra-special seasons of togetherness, redeeming the time and treating them with the respect they deserve.

• We grandparents can have a special place in the hearts of our grandchildren if we clearly perceive our role. We are not surrogate parents. We have a life totally separate from them, and because of that we have the opportunity to enrich their lives through storytelling, old family photographs and travels.

We are not immediately involved in their everyday lives with Mom and Dad. We are in a more relaxed place in the order of living things. While there is always something still to learn, we are more established and less inclined to need to still prove our place in society.

Because of this, we can offer spells of much-needed respite to the everyday hassle and struggle that a 24/7 parent sustains. We can offer a totally different perspective for the child.

The Proverbs tell us that “a good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children” (13:22). While this refers to a monetary inheritance or possession, could we additionally interpret it to be an inheritance of character, integrity and godliness? Proverbs 16:31 adds, “The silver-haired head is a crown of glory, if it is found in the way of righteousness.”

After my “appointed days” are over, when my grandchildren look back, will they be enriched because we spent this time together? Will I have left them the legacy of integrity? The onus is on me.

While this year’s Gramma Camp has come to its conclusion, plans are brewing for next year’s, which brings a smile to my face. Until then, together or separated by hundreds of miles, I have a legacy to work on.

Janel Johnson is a silver-haired grandma to two beautiful girls who still hasn’t seen the third Spiderman movie.