In the spring of 2024, I became a grandmother for the first time at the ripe old age of 68. I hadn’t really been waiting for a grandchild; my life was quite full and blessed as it was.
But when I learned that a baby was on the way, my heart soared. Something inside me opened up — my imagination, a deep longing, excitement and room for a new family member. I started praying for her (yes, we knew the baby was a girl) daily and by the time Piper arrived, I was deeply connected to her.
And when I met her, a number of things happened. First, amidst the immense joy of holding my wee granddaughter, feeling her in my arms, and breathing in her scent, I noticed grief well up inside me. That was a surprise. Joy and grief together?
Over the next weeks, exploring that grief, I realized that I had been bumped up a generation. Even though all the family in my parents’ generation had died, I had not really made the transition to this new status. As one of my sons stated, somewhat in shock, when his last grandparent died, “There’s no one between you and death now. They’re all gone. There’s no buffer. You’re it!” That was 12 years ago, and I hadn’t taken his news in fully.
So that reality hit me in a profound way with Piper’s arrival.
Not only am I closer to the end of my life (a wake-up call in itself), but I am an elder now. Quickly the questions arose: How do I want to live out my remaining years? What kind of elder am I being called to be? And, critically, what kind of world do I want to leave my grandchild? There is a new sense of urgency, a sharper focus to the questions. More clarity. What is really important? And what is important for me to do? I can’t change the world, but I can zoom in on what I can do to make a difference.
I also have realized how important health and well-being are. At my age, I am unlikely to see my grandchild have children of her own. (There’s the grief again.) But I want to be a part of her life as long as possible. I want to share my interests and learn from hers. I want to support her and her parents in whatever way makes sense to us all. For this to happen, I need to value my health and take good care of myself.
I started taking much better care of myself during the pandemic and now I’m so glad I did. Weekly strength training classes over the past several years have enabled me to lift this healthy child without hurting my back, help with housework and haul groceries up a long flight of stairs to my son and daughter-in-law’s apartment. I want to be able to push Piper on the swing and take long walks with her. I want to be able to stay up late and sleep outside under the stars with her, and to be able to get down on the floor to play with her.
Our culture does not do a good job in helping people transition into grandparenthood. There are few books on the subject and those there are, were written in recent decades. The Hallmark portrayal of a grandparent is saccharine and trivializing. Demeaning in many ways. Often the elderly are the butt of awful jokes. And worse, elder abuse and neglect.
As grandparents, we have much to offer. Contrary to the view of aging as a diminishing process, aging can be a refining process that lays bare our core values and profound wisdom, and offers valuable modelling to those who look to us for how to age well, and die gracefully.
Our churches today are full of grandparents and elders. How much do we reflect on our role as elders in our families, our communities and in the church itself? As a new grandparent, I’m inspired to do the work of reconnoitering this rich, little-explored territory.
When I hear people voice the well-known refrain “Where are all the young people? Why don’t families come to church?” I’ve always balked. Now I’m clear about why those questions grate. They’re the wrong questions.
As elders, we need to be asking our children and grandchildren, what kind of support do you need? What’s important to you? And we need to ask ourselves, what do I have to offer as an elder? How do I model and talk about my faith in a respectful way? We want easy solutions. We want people to come to us. It’s not happening, and I doubt it will happen. At least not as the church is now.
Bums in seats is not the solution. Meaningful connections, respectful communication, curiosity and heartfelt service are. In relationship, we create the church moving forward. Not only with each other but connected to the world around us.
Every Sunday we are sent out after being nourished through worship to “go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” So, a good question is, how do I serve? Not by telling parents they need to come to church. Not by wanting to return to a past that is long gone.
We need to turn inwards first, to do our own work of becoming the elders the world needs: clarifying our gifts, and then heading out into the world, to our families and communities asking, how can I best serve?
And then listening, and listening, and listening. To what the young people have to say, and to what the holy spirit is saying to us.
