My parents bought me a beautiful Mediterranean-style, hope chest for Christmas that year, and I began saving juice glasses from the gas station and wooden salad bowls from grocery store purchases to be the first and only items placed inside it. There were premiums available in those days, just for buying gas or shopping at certain stores, and I felt I was doing my part to stock up for the future, even there hadn’t technically been a marriage proposal yet. I was a junior in college, John was in the Navy stationed in Panama, and we had an understanding that if his next assignment was stateside, there would be an engagement.

When I saw the ad for Corelle dinnerware in a magazine, I went to my grandmother, gushing about how pretty I thought a particular pattern was and telling her I had sent for a free bread plate and couldn’t wait for it to come so I could show it to her. Grandma, in her inimitable way, looked at the dinnerware picture, agreed that the tiny tulips embossed around the edge were very nice, and shot me down with, “Well, Vicki, I think once your John proposes, this might just be something you and I could look into.”

She wasn’t falling for my not-so-vague pitch to help me fill my hope chest.

Her role was always that of encourager, but she also knew just where to draw the line, and I loved her for it. A week after my visit with Grandma, a handwritten recipe for her homemade noodles arrived in the mail for me. “For your hope chest,” the envelope read. I still have it 50 years later.

RELATED: Thanks For Everything, Grandma and Grandpa

Grandma was the one who dreamed up the little contest with the prize of a manicure set when I was nine and had a nasty nail-biting habit. All I had to do to be rewarded with my very own baby blue, miniature, leather set with beautiful flowers embossed on it was to prove I needed a nail file and manicure scissors. Encouragement once again. 

I was finally awarded the prize on my wedding day, the first time I could actually resist biting my nails because I wanted the photograph of John’s hand and mine to turn out well. She was still holding out hope for me. I wasn’t at all surprised my grandmother had kept the manicure set and insisted on rewarding my efforts 12 years after encouraging me to break the nail-biting habit. 

She was wonderful and would do anything for her grandkids. 

I, being the first grandchild, had the extra benefit of more time with her, and I still thank God for Ivory soap bath times in her clawfoot bathtub and the perpetually bubbling vegetable soup pot in her kitchen. 

My mom and mother-in-law were wonderful grandmothers, too, generous with their time and energy, magnanimous with their praise for all the grandkids. Our first child, Christopher, was the first grandchild on both sides of the family, and both women slid into their roles so effortlessly. My mom knitted a welcome home sweater set for Chris. John’s Mom gave so generously of her time to allow me the breaks I needed when my dad became ill. 

There were special trips to the circus with my mother-in-law when each grandchild turned three, wonderful Easter egg hunts and sleepovers in the butterfly bedroom, and my mom reserved Thursdays as her day off work so she could take all of us bowling and miniature golfing and sightseeing on the riverfront or just out to lunch.  There was always fun and laughter, plenty of snapshots, and constant exceptions to the rules of the games . . . “Of course, you can move your golf ball just a little closer to the hole. It was almost there anyway. Grandma’s rules.”

And when Chris wanted to spend some time alone with his girlfriend, Maureen, over Christmas break from college, it was Grandma he asked for a couple of days’ lodgings at her home in the woods, separate bedrooms of course. That alone time, complete with snowy walks and sled-riding, hot chocolate and quiet evenings, led to serious discussions about their future, and they’ve been married for 21 years now.

What wonderful examples I had when it was my turn to be the Grandma. 

I worried because I had a lot to live up to, but when my son Adam and daughter-in-law Debby gifted me with a silver photo frame engraved with the words “Great Moms Get Promoted To Grandmas,” I knew it wouldn’t matter that I didn’t know how to knit a coming home outfit. The cross-stitched quilt I’d been working on in the lunchroom at work every day was going to be a wonderful, if several weeks too late, start.

RELATED: So God Made a Grandma

I’m Grandma to nine now, and I’m very aware that the examples of the women in my life who came before me are the reason I’m comfortable with my own role as encourager, smile-sharer, Halloween celebrater, Grandma’s rule proponent, and Zoom call expert.

I’ve been so blessed.  And I thank God every day for the Grandmas who came before me.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Vicki Bahr

I'm a mother of four, grandmother of nine, wife of John for fifty two years, an incurable optimist, word lover, and story sharer. I've worked and played at many careers, from proofreader to preschool teacher, businesswoman to human interest newspaper columnist to medical records clerk. Each path has afforded me the opportunity to appreciate the warmth of humanity and to hopefully spread a lifetime of smiles, empathy, and God's inspiration along the way. My life continues to be one of delight. With experience comes understanding, with understanding comes peace.

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

In: Journal, Kids, Relationships
Raising Our Kids Near Their Grandparents is the Greatest Gift We Could Ever Give Them www.herviewfromhome.com

“Bapa?” My one-year-old says, as she toddles over with my cell phone clutched in her small hands. “Cah Bapa?”  I smile down at my daughter and take the outstretched phone. “Sure, we can call Grandpa.” She bounces on her toes as I tap the FaceTime icon, my dad’s face appearing on the screen a few seconds later.  “Bapa!” She beams, as he smiles hello to his biggest, tiny fan who stands in awe of him just a couple of blocks away.  You see, we live just down the street from my mom and dad—my husband’s parents live in the same...

Keep Reading

The Only Thing Better Than Having You As a Mom Is Watching You As a Grandma

In: Journal, Relationships
The Only Thing Better Than Having You As a Mom Is Watching You As a Grandma www.herviewfromhome.com

You stopped by unannounced this evening after dinner and bathtime. You were greeted by chubby legs in ballerina PJs and crooked pigtails. All 27 pounds of her were quickly thrust into your chest when she saw you. The genuine joy and love you have for each other was evident and mutual.  You walked up a flight of stairs despite the pain I know it caused your bad knee. You sat on the floor and read book after book and placed block after block in between throwing a ball, stealing a kiss, and identifying an animal.  You thanked me when I...

Keep Reading

10 Reasons Why Grandmas Are The Best

In: Journal, Relationships

I’ve never been one to dwell on the past. I’m the type of person that takes the time in each moment to truly relish in it, and then put it in that part of my brain where memory is stored, and move on. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I’m not nostalgic, because I am very much. I love looking at old family photo albums, I love American history, and there’s nothing I enjoy more than reminiscing with my siblings. I think the one area in which I wish I could turn back the hands of time,...

Keep Reading