A Gift for Mom! 🤍

This picture of my grandpa and me was taken well over 20 years ago. It was taken on one of my multiple weekly visits to “the farm.” The picture shows the happiness that always existed in my grandparents’ home, and it shows the love our family shared. But like so many pictures, this one is deceiving. There’s so much you can’t see.

It doesn’t show you the holes in the plaster walls in their house, the exposed studs and insulation, or the holes in the furniture, covered up by sheets and blankets. You can’t see the worn-out, 100-year-old wood floors that never had been refinished.

RELATED: Raising Our Kids Near Their Grandparents is the Greatest Gift We Could Ever Give Them

If you went outside, you’d think your eyes were playing tricks on you when you looked at the old barns, leaning over, exhausted with age. The photo doesn’t show you Grandpa’s rusted out, outdated, “antique” farm equipment littering the side yard, partially buried in the earth. You can’t see the old, broken-down truck parked in the barn, that in its retirement had become a home to miscellaneous farm equipment and every once in a while, a new litter of kittens. And the picture doesn’t show the way my grandpa could work miracles repairing tractors with electrical tape, trying to avoid replacing equipment and costly repairs. 

This picture doesn’t show how my grandpa hardly had any material possessions to his name. And it certainly doesn’t show how he had everything he needed. 

Because this photo doesn’t show a wild pack of grandkids running around the front yard, playing games, hiding in the wheel wells of the tractors, and chasing kittens. It doesn’t show you how we’d all gather together in the front yard, sitting in our lawn chairs during warm summer evenings in the shade of the big maple tree as the sun began its descent.

By looking at this picture, you can’t hear Grandpa bickering with Grandma in Polish so no one would know what they were saying, and you can’t see the smiles on their faces that signaled the end of their little disagreement. You can’t hear how bossy Grandpa would get playing cards when his opponents weren’t playing their hands the way he thought they should.

RELATED: I’d Give Anything For One More Day With My Grandparents

The photo doesn’t show you how on Sundays, Grandpa would turn on the polka station on the radio and he and Grandma would give Sunday afternoon Polka lessons.

You can’t see how every time they’d dance together, they were as happy as they ever were.

It doesn’t show you how on any given day of the week, the house would be full of their children and grandchildren or how on so many weekends extended family and friends would come out from the city to visit around the kitchen table.

What this picture does show you is a small snippet of what my grandpa did have. He had children and grandchildren who loved him and looked up to him. He had a wife who he loved and shared a life with for over 50 years. But most importantly, my grandfather had knowledgethe knowledge that the key to true happiness was surrounding yourself with family, friends, love, and laughter. And that knowledge made my grandfather a rich man. 

RELATED: Dear Modern, Busy People: Bring Back Family Gatherings

We buried my grandpa over a year ago on a frigid winter day. My grandmother and so many of their family and friends had long since gone before him. He reached the age of 90, often wondering how he’d made it so long. He’d comment about how young his parents were when they passed, showing surprise that genetics hadn’t caught up to him. In his later years, he saw many of his great-grandchildren born, and he watched them play at his knee. He still farmed almost to the end and always listened to polkas on Sundays. He lived life as he always had, just at a slower pace. 

Now that he’s gone, my family and I have work to do.

We are now the bridge between one generation to the next, charged with passing my grandfather’s wisdom down to his great-grandchildren. 

If I had to choose one thing in the world I want most for my children, it wouldn’t be that they have the best of everything, that they have everything they want, or even that they become successful by today’s meaning of the word. I would choose for them to be like their great-grandfatherto find true happiness and contentment surrounded by family, friends, love, and laughter. If I can give my children that gift, then I’ve done my grandfather proud. 

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Stephanie Lawrence

Stephanie is a loving wife and mother residing in southeast Michigan. She is a passionate educator, a loyal friend, and a small town girl at heart. When she's not shaping the minds of her students or spending time with her family, you can find her curled up with a good book, or whipping up something tasty in the kitchen. 

My Mom Was Just 13 When I Was Born. Now That I’m a Mother, I See Her Differently.

In: Living
Young girl and teenage mother

There are only 13 years and 11 months between us. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been—how lonely it must have felt at times. A childhood cut short, replaced with responsibilities that were night and day. Confusion and love, all wrapped into one. Growing up, it felt like I had a big sister beside me. A friend I loved with everything in me. But she wasn’t just a friend. She was my mother. I relied on her for guidance, for reassurance, for someone to look up to. And now I find myself wondering, how could she give me...

Keep Reading

Why Don’t We Talk About Jonah’s Mother?

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman standing over water

Praying for My Son Send a storm to stop him; Let his friends throw him out. May he drop to the deeps, But gently, please, Stubborn though he may be. If it could only take three days, How my mother’s heart would Rejoice in praise.  From the hell you allow him, Let him cry to you. Is not Nineveh and mercy Exactly what he knows He needs— A mercy on enemies He fears You will concede? Please let all the shade wither If his is an angry soul; Humble him and help him follow Where you would have his purpose...

Keep Reading

I Never Got to Meet My Grandmother on This Side of Heaven

In: Living
Old black and white family photo

Grandmother, I never met you this side of Heaven, but I feel as though I have. Your pictures, scattered throughout my mother’s home, tell your story. Born to a woman who came to this country alone when she was just 16, you would be the youngest of four, with two sisters and a brother. Your short, dark, straight hair clings to your little face, a line of bangs neatly combed high on your forehead. You couldn’t be more than three years old as you sit on a stool at your sister’s First Holy Communion. The black and white photo makes...

Keep Reading

The Hardest Part of Divorce Is Being Away from My Kids

In: Living, Marriage, Motherhood
Woman in driver's seat

I’ve written several times about how divorce has allowed me to find myself again, and how that version is even better than the one I was before I was married. All of that is still true. I am happier than I’ve ever been. More confident and sure of myself. I understand my emotions and how to handle myself when things get tough or scary. I am more grounded and calm than I’ve ever been. Truly, I have come out on top. I’ve received comments about how happy I look, how I’m “living my best life with kids only half the...

Keep Reading

My Dad Gave Us Something Money Never Could

In: Living
Family smiling in posed photo

I was talking with my dad the other day about an upcoming Disney trip with our kids. I told him all we planned to do while we were there and how excited the kids were. He sat and listened, taking it all in. And then he said something that put a lump in my throat. “I’m so glad you’re able to give your kids the life that I couldn’t.” He went on to say he still carries some guilt–that he wishes he could have done more, taken us on trips, given us experiences he couldn’t. Hearing that broke my heart....

Keep Reading

Dear Daddy, I Wish You Could See Yourself As We Do

In: Living, Marriage
father with two young children

The side of my husband who is hardest on himself usually shows up late at night. The house is quiet, the kids are finally asleep, and the day has done what it always does—taken everything it could from both of us. That’s usually when it comes out. The voice in his head that tells him he’s not doing enough as a father. Not present enough. Not patient enough. Not good enough. He doesn’t say it lightly. He says it like someone confessing a truth he wishes wasn’t true. Like he’s already measured himself against some invisible standard of fatherhood and...

Keep Reading

Mothers and Stepmothers: Who’s on First?

In: Living
Little girl looking through fingers

The roles. The expectations. The unspoken, undefined rules. The hurt feelings no one wants to talk about. It could be a scene from an old Abbott and Costello routine: “Who’s on first?” Motherhood is rarely clear-cut. And if you’ve ever tried to navigate life alongside a stepmother—or as one—you know how quickly things can become complicated. Add a stepmother to the mix, and suddenly it’s a relay race where no one’s quite sure who’s holding the baton, or if anyone wants it. This isn’t a story about winners and losers or choosing sides. It isn’t about who is right or...

Keep Reading

Do We Really Want a ’90s Summer?

In: Living
Girl holding popsicle

The year is 2026: we’re inviting thousands of strangers to get ready with us, threatening our own deaths on a lot of different hills and, if you’re a millennial mom, determined to have a ’90s summer. Some top to-dos on the ’90s mom summer checklist? Lots of outside play, limited screens, less hustle, more simplicity. Overall, evoking the “carefree” summers of the 1990s. But did anyone ever ask the real ‘90s moms if summers back then were all we’re cracking them up to be? If my own memory serves me right, my parents talked a whole lot about summers in...

Keep Reading

To the Woman Who Was Betrayed

In: Living, Marriage
Woman looking off to the fog

He promised you a lifetime, a family, safety, and security. You carried life and brought it into this world for him. Even still, in the trenches of postpartum, he betrayed you. It was never your fault. This is something I’ve fought to tell myself every single day since the day I discovered my marriage was never meant to last. Because the truth is, betrayal is never about you; it’s about them, and the character flaws deep within they’d rather bury than face. He watched as you fought for your life after delivery while your tiny, premature newborn spent the first...

Keep Reading

5 Things I’m Learning about 50

In: Living
birthday balloons

When my dad turned 80, he—and we, by default—celebrated all year. My sister made a fantastic, larger-than-life sign of him posing in front of his friend’s antique car, with beautiful calligraphy that trumpeted, “Cheers to you, celebrating 80 years of life!” The sign welcomed his closest friends and family into a private room at a steakhouse, where we toasted his 80 years—and the grandkids toasted his steady presence in their lives. The sign moved from the swanky steakhouse to the second-floor banister in my parents’ house. When you walked in, it greeted you—a feel-good conversation starter and a reminder to...

Keep Reading