Last May my husband lost his grandmother to cancer. It was a difficult experience, as any death is, but particularly thought-provoking for me as I just gave birth to a daughter 3 months prior to his grandmother’s death. We were able to visit his grandma in Sioux Falls before she died, and that day she got to meet her newest great-granddaughter. As I watched her weak arms hold this brand new baby, I was struck anew by the way our lives begin and end the same.
I thought about his grandma and how she needed help for the most basic of tasks, much like a newborn. As her health declined, she relied on her children and health care workers to care for her.
Nursing my daughter afforded me much time to think on birth and death and the marvelous life in between. As I held my tiny new daughter, played with her hands, and poured my love into caring for her, I imagined what she would be like as a girl, teenager, woman, and at the end of her life. I thought about how much I want to care for her all her days. All her days.
Then it hit me. I will likely not be here for all of her days. As she’s at the end of her life and needing tender care for the most basic of tasks, I will not be there to ensure she is treated with the utmost love and care. Who will be there for her?
HER children. My grandchildren.
I must rely on the love and care that I am giving to my children to be passed on to their children so I can ensure this beautiful baby of mine will be cradled her whole life through.
I can’t bear the thought of not being there for her at the end of her life. But it will likely be so. How strange. My mind can’t comprehend this.
And so I take on yet another new task in motherhood – equipping my children to pass on love, tenderness, empathy, and compassion to the generations to follow so that it boomerangs back to them in their time of need.
