I look around and realize that the “magic” of grandma’s house isn’t about the stuff. It’s about the woman – my amazing grandma – that lives there, creates a home, and loves her family with her whole heart every single day. It’s about the woman that still gives me a kiss goodbye even though I am 30 years old. It’s about the woman that whispers words of love every time I see her. Grandma always reminds me that I am special, when the truth is, I am special because of her.
It’s easy for me to downplay the dishes, the laundry, and the mundane tasks that fill the white space of my life. I agonize over not being enough or accomplishing anything of worth besides the basics. Days blend together as I jump around trying to keep up with the demands as they rain down. Yet, as I watch my grandma’s beautiful hands hold my babies, I can’t help but wonder if she recognizes the impact of our shared ordinary moments. I knew she always loved me. I knew she believed in me. And I knew she would always be there for me. I wonder if grandma knows just how much her life and love mean to me and how much I need the reassuring power her presence brings into my life.
The ordinary acts we practice everyday at home are of more importance to the soul than their simplicity might suggest.