I am sure you all remember me writing about my beautiful Poppy Journal that a friend gave me? Well, it’s been getting a lot of use lately. I love to take it places with me and write in it at odd moments … like when I am travelling on the bus … or waiting on a seat to meet friends. I am always writing: either in my head or on the real page!
So late yesterday, I happened to have one of those occasions where I had my Poppy Journal with me and whipped it out of my bag to write while I was waiting. What I was doing at that hour of the day will become apparent as you read the Journal entry.
Wed 10th July 2013
Life takes some different twists and turns at times doesn’t it? Here I am at 5.10pm on this cold and wet late afternoon sitting near the Holland Park Bus Station waiting to be picked up after getting off the bus. A last-minute call to come and support my granddaughter – who is having a bit of a crisis – is what has brought me here.
It’s times like this that I wish I didn’t feel so nervous about driving outside of my own area! Still, we do what we are capable of doing at the time, don’t we? I am well-rugged up from the cold of the day and I’m okay here; it’s my granddaughter who is taking up the place of concern in my heart.
I well remember being young once like her; on the brink of womanhood but not quite there yet. Feeling isolated and alone … as if no one else was suffering from the confusion within me but me … mainly because I was too scared to tell anyone. No longer a child but not yet a teenager either.
Betwixt and Between!
Able to hold very sensible conversations which made me seem mature, yet underneath my emotions were coming in and going out like the tide! How was I to know that momentous ‘stuff’ was going on inside of me? And that I would not understand what it was all about until years down the track; and even though more than fifty years have passed since this ‘interesting’ time in my life, I have never forgotten it.
So here I am now: a grandmother, helping another generation to weather the storms of puberty. I have already helped my daughter across this particular stream years ago and now I have the privilege of helping a second generation navigate her way through it.
Indeed, what a blessed woman I am!
I realised as I came home on the bus this morning (after spending the night) what a wonderful opportunity I’d had to be part of my grandchildren’s life. After 10 years of visiting in Sydney – a two-hour flight away – it still seems amazing that I can be at their place just by taking a 20 minute bus ride.
How many women have the opportunity to minister to their grandchildren in times of need … to help them feel better … or perhaps to give them a hug or say a prayer with them. Perhaps one just needs to play snakes and ladders as we did last night … and laugh like crazy as we climbed up ladders and slid ever so fast down those slippery snakes?
What a hoot we had as we threw dice, made progress only to slip back down again, wondering who in the name of goodness would actually win the game? And when all seemed doomed, the largest ladder would appear like a wonderful escalator and up up up we would go taking us close to the final dash for home and that great big WIN.
Life is a bit like that game of snakes and ladders dear friends. One minute we are going up ladders and we seem invincible; the next we are sliding down snakes and can’t seem to get off the slippery slope.
I suppose the secret that my granddaughters and I learned last night … is to hold your nerve and stay confident … knowing that one way or another, it was possible to end up winning the game, for just when we thought all hope was lost a ladder would appear out of nowhere and haul us to the top.
Yep … just like life.