A few weeks ago, I announced the birth of my new granddaughter, Sophia. What a little bean she is! We’re completely in love with her, as you can imagine.
Becoming a grandmother—it’s still strange to even say it—has been both beautiful and unexpected. I never had a clear picture of what I thought it would feel like. We go from season to season in life, and while I knew this one was coming, I didn’t expect it to arrive wrapped in so many unanticipated emotions and thoughts.
I know it’s normal. Change is as inevitable as the sun rising and setting. I’ve raised two daughters; I’m a mother—and I still don’t entirely know what that means, even though they’re grown. Sometimes I still feel like a kid myself, even in this 56-year-old body with all its menopause weirdness.
But being a grandmother? That’s something different. I always imagined it as a place of honor in my daughter’s life, yet that’s not exactly how it feels. I’m not sure what I expected, but what I’ve experienced has been beautifully strange. So here are my top five “unexpectedlys.”
Unexpectedly Different
Growing up, the word grandmother was spoken in one of two tones: a quiet, reverent one for the matriarch who ruled my aunt’s house from the kitchen table with her Solitaire cards and Jeopardy, or a whimsical one for the Italian woman upstairs who yelled at my dad and bought our affection with candy from her underwear drawer.
I feel neither regal nor whimsical. I feel pure, unfiltered joy. That’s it. And it surprises me every time.
Unexpectedly Wealthy
Financially wealthy? Absolutely not. 😄
But suddenly I feel this deep desire to help—to ease the burden of the endless list of baby expenses. No one prepares you for that part, and my daughter and son-in-law are in the “shock and awe” phase even though they prepared well.
I find myself tossing diapers and formula into my cart and then reminding myself (more than once) that my son-in-law is a fantastic provider and my daughter is wise and frugal… which means I can put the diapers back, slowly back away from the formula, and return that money to my retirement fund. 😄
Unexpectedly Energetic
I am a proud couch-dwelling homebody. My life, my job, my cozy hobbies—crochet, embroidery, reading—they all happen from the comfort of my favorite spot.
I’m healthy, but as my older daughter insists, I am fluffy, not fat. And yes, I could stand to lose more than a few pounds. When I first learned Sophia was coming, I got motivated… then unmotivated… then re-motivated… and then my birthday happened, and Thanksgiving, and Christmas. You know how it goes.
But now she’s here. I’ve held her. I’ve seen her tiny face. And suddenly living a healthier life doesn’t feel optional—it feels necessary. For me, yes, but also for her. I want to be the grandma who rides bikes, plays on the floor, takes long walks, goes exploring. I can’t do those things for long stretches right now, but Sophia has become the best unexpected motivator I could have ever asked for.
Unexpectedly Prayerful
There’s so much facing kids today. Even more facing parents trying to raise a godly child. Social media can be brutal—post one picture of your baby and complete strangers feel entitled to tear you apart. And women… we can be the worst to each other. “Women empowering women” is sometimes more slogan than truth.
As my daughter grew up, she lived out her faith boldly, especially in high school, and she paid a lonely price for it. But she never wavered. And God blessed her with a husband who won’t waver either. Together, they’ll be a strong, steady, Christ-centered force in Sophia’s life.
My role is to pray for them—and it is both my job and my privilege. They will need it.
Unexpectedly Hopeful
I feel a kind of hope I’ve never felt before. I’ve visited Sophia twice, and each time I take a thousand pictures. My daughter sends me pictures constantly, and I look at them several times a day.
I think about who Sophia will be. What she’ll love. What I’ll get to teach her. What she might teach me.
I hope she likes me.
I hope I’m enough.
I hope I can pass down the wisdom my own sweet mother gave me.
I hope that even though I live three hours away, she always feels me near.
I hope, I hope, I hope.
Pam Brown once wrote, “Becoming a grandmother is wonderful. One moment you’re just a mother. The next you are all-wise and prehistoric.” It’s true! I hold a kind of wisdom my daughter doesn’t have, simply because of the era I lived through. I remember phones attached to the wall, VCRs costing $700, VHS tapes over $100. (I saved $80 for my first Duran Duran video—an eternity of babysitting money.) I remember libraries before the internet.
A whole age of technology unfolded while I grew up. I’ll be able to tell Sophia all about it. And then I’ll teach her the simple things too—the joy of a blooming flower, the beauty in a piece of classical music, the deep appreciation for everything God gives us to enjoy.
This feels like the best season of my life—one I’ve been preparing for without even knowing it.And now it’s here.
And it’s wonderful.
Faith Love n Joy 