My own Mother became a Grandma this week when my younger brother and his wife had their first baby. I think the cutest thing about it is how my Mom is comparing how her new granddaughter looks like my younger brother did as a baby. My Mom is thinking back to when she had her own babies. She is excited for her own children because she is familiar with the amazing road we are on.

I feel very strongly about leaving my brother and his family alone for a few days while they get settled in. Because of this I had to call my Mom last night to get the “baby update” for the day. She said she had been thinking all day of an excuse to go over to my brother’s house to see the baby (they live about 35 minutes apart). She said she hadn’t come up with a good enough excuse. I laughed at her and told her she didn’t need an excuse because she is the Grandma. That is all the excuse she’ll ever need from this day forward.

This morning I was thinking more about my Mom and my own relationship with her. My Mom is an amazing women. I watched her raise her own four kids as well as my Dad’s five younger siblings after his Mom died. I watched her go back to college to become a nurse. We all tried to pull our own weight when she started working full time. She worked the graveyard shift so that she could be home with us during the day. We tried to keep the house clean and be quiet so she could rest after working all night. I watched her support my Dad when he decided to also go back to school to get his Master degree. I watched her devote time and love to members of the community, in her spare time.

When I look back at my youth my Mom is in most of my memories. She was always around, always involved, always laughing that fake sounding laugh that drives The King crazy. Even though I know she must have been so busy, she juggled it so effortlessly that I never knew that she might be struggling to keep afloat.

My Mom would come into my room in the morning and say “why don’t you come in and talk to me while I put my make-up on?” I would go in the bathroom and chat with her for a few minutes. Just a way for us both to start our day out. I am not sure what other rituals she did with the other kids. I only know that my time with her was always special. At night she would come into my room and say “I’m going to wash off my make-up and then come back and turn your light off.” I promise that if I still lived at home she would say the same thing to me each night. (and yes, I would turn my light back on as soon as she left my room.)

I hope that I have learned how to be a Mom from my Mom. I hope that subconsciously I have held on to what I witnessed and will use it with my own baby. I want my baby to know I love it, just like I know my Mom loves me without a doubt.

She’s going to be a wonderful Grandma.