Meeting Great Grandma

A couple of weeks ago, we took Baby Jonah to meet his great-grandmother for the first time. Dorothy Newkirk is 92 years young and lives not far from us.

Like many seniors, she lives alone, and like many seniors, she occasionally struggles with her memory.

We volunteered to deliver her weekly groceries and bring the baby along for a short visit. While there, William did a few chores, and I hung out with her while she held the baby.

Curious, the ways aging affects our memory. On her kitchen table, she had displayed a list of great-grandchildren’s names. She was so happy to meet Baby Jonah, but she kept asking the same questions over and over.

She asked me, “Is he a good baby?” serval times. She also volunteered more than once that her son, Williams’ father, was a good baby, but that her daughter cried frequently.

“Is he a good baby?” She would ask. “By that, I mean, does he sleep well at night? Does he cry a lot?”

“Lyle loved babies.” She said over and over. She told me several times that if it were up to her late husband, they would have had a baby every year and a half.

I could see waves of joy and nostalgia pass over her as she revisited, again and again, these thoughts. Her son was a “good baby.” Her daughter cried a lot. Her husband loved babies and wanted more children, at least once every year and a half.

Some people might feel frustrated that she would repeat herself, and maybe if we’d been there all day, it would have bothered us. But at the moment, it felt like her repeated words served as a chorus, reminding me what was important.

It hit home when she would laughingly say, “I bet you don’t get anything done at home. Don’t worry about all that. Just enjoy it.”

I went home, turning this comment over in my mind. ‘You won’t get anything done…don’t worry, just enjoy it.’ I wasn’t sure if I should agree or disagree. Of course, I’m not getting much done! Caring for an infant takes up so much time. I don’t have time for much else.

On the other hand, you wouldn’t believe the amount of stuff I get done. I’m caring for a tiny human being, and he requires endless hours of feeding, changing, bathing, holding, and play. And this tiny human being will become a full grown adult with his own personality and responsibilities.

Regardless, the repetition of these few comments made them sink deeper into my heart. Repetition is used frequently by God in the Bible to underscore the importance of a message and prompt careful reflection.

In 1 Kings 19:11-18, God asks the prophet Elijah multiple times “what are you doing here?”

In John 21, Jesus asks Peter multiple times, “do you love me?”

And each Sunday morning, we act, called on the repetition of the Apostles Creed and the Lord’s Prayer.

My life has changed radically over the last few months, which I expected. But I didn’t expect everyone else’s life to change radically too. I have found some comfort in the repetition of small things: that first-morning playtime, the end of day bath, the meal I share with my husband just after we put Jonah to bed. There is meaning in the repetition. There are lessons in the redundancy.

These are certainly not exciting times, but there is certainly something we can learn. Our lives today are unique, and I’m trying to learn what God would teach me from life’s current rhythm. I hope you have your eyes and ears open to lean something from God too.