A New Grandchild

My husband and I just became new grandparents! It is deeply sacred, knowing that now, we are always connected with  this child. I shared this happy news with numerous of supportive girlfriends.

 

There are other people, who would call me their friend, yet who would disapprovingly judge my daughter and perhaps me as well.

 

Next week my husband and I celebrate our 44^th wedding anniversary. Often I am amazed that we made it. I was 20 years old and husband 22 when we wed much to the disapproving, harsh judgments of our parents and the hushed tones and wagging of heads from their sympathetic friends and other relatives. We were considered a mixed marriage back then; downright scandalous. I was raised catholic and my love, Church of Christ. When our daughter wed in 2017 she dealt with the same eyebrow raising, harsh judgmental tones that her parents had endured 40 years earlier.

 

Our gay daughter and her wife wanted to love and raise a child. Rather bring another person into the overcrowded world with in vitro, they decided to give a home to a child who was already born. After going through all the classes and training sessions to become foster parents, 2 summers ago, 3 day old Soul entered their home and their hearts. Yesterday on zoom I watched the adoption. I watched while this little person, still sleepy from having been awoken early from his nap, oblivious of the importance of the occasion, became my grandchild.

 

The West Wing is a favorite TV show for my husband and me. A favorite episode of mine deals with the sadly always current topic of how to stop hate crimes. Here is some of the script of the show dealing with the hate crime of homosexuality:

JACOBS: I don’t say homosexuality is an abomination, Mr. President. The Bible does.

BARTLET: Yes it does. Leviticus!

JACOBS: 18:22.

BARTLET: Chapter and verse. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions while I had you here. I wanted to sell my youngest daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. She’s a Georgetown Sophomore, speaks fluent Italian, always cleared the table when it was her turn. What would a good price for her be?

BARTLET: While thinking about that, can I ask another? My chief of staff, Leo McGary, insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly says he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself? Or is it okay to call the police?

BARTLET: Here’s one that’s really important, because we’ve got a lot of sports fans in this town. Touching the skin of a dead pig makes one unclean. Leviticus 11:7. If they promise to wear gloves, can the Washington Redskins still play football? Can Notre Dame? Can West Point? Does the whole town really have to be together to stone my brother John for planting different crops side by side? Can I burn my mother in a small family gathering for wearing garments made from two different threads? Think about those questions, would you?

 

I want Soul to grow up in a kinder world; a world with much less judgment and much less hate and much more love. I want him to come play with his grandpa and juju in the mountains. We live in the perfect place for children to play – no need to get in the car and go anywhere to play – a mountain stream is out our garden gate and down the path, perfect for wadding, boat sailing, stone skipping and there’s a nature trail to walk and a field for kite flying…it’s all just waiting for a little boy to come play with his loving grandparents in the mountains.

 

 What kind thoughts do you have to share?

 

“May you live all the days of your life.”  J. Swift
julie@handsbestrong.com

Living in the Mountains

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