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The Bubble

"You mean your mother. Your mother’s turning 90. You said grandmother. I said my grandmother because I meant grandmother. And it’s 95. She’s turning 95. But you’re a grandmother, right? Yes I am! Four. 94? No. She’s 95. I have four grandchildren. Four? Yes. 7, 6, 3 and 2. No four or five? She’s 95. I have 4. For now. Is she dying? Who? Your grandmother. NO! Why would you ask that? You said ‘for now’. I have four grandchildren for now. I have three children and only 2 have children of their own. So you never know. Does your grandmother know? Know what? How you worry about her? I’m not worried! For now….." I’m 60 years old and I have the rare privilege of living in a bubble. You know, like in the middle of a level. The bubble. The little floating bit of air that tells you if you’re balanced. A little to the left or right and things are just off. I should know because I’ve got walls full of holes less than a quarter inch apart because I tried to hang pictures without a level. Five generations of females are living in our family today and I sit smack dab in the middle - like the bubble. My mom is 79 and my grandmother is 95. My daughter is 33 and her daughter is 3. I also have a granddaughter who is two who is the daughter of my son. She is my son in a female body which is an indescribable sight to behold! I feel so off-balance at times. I’m not complaining. I’m just dizzy. I’m so busy and, truthfully, couldn’t have it any other way. I fear having nothing to do. So I juggle work and family like most women do. I keep the grandkids on a regular basis so those days are filled with playing and pretending and being a part of watching these babies turn into little people with personalities and opinions. What an unbelievable gift to watch them grow with all the unlimited possibilities life has to offer! I get to watch my own daughter blossom in her own womanhood and traverse the wilds of motherhood herself. It’s a wonder to behold and I can’t imagine how I got so lucky as to not only watch this unfold but to have a bond with my daughter that allows me to also participate. I get to spend hours of fun and social time with my mother. But we share a bond that is rare in that we are best friends and share conversations about spiritual evolution, the journey of change, heartaches of loss and observations of a life that seems to be passing so fast. She is my mentor showing me that life is all about change and to never stop learning. But I see her changing, a kinder way of saying grow older, as she does me and I think how odd it must be to say “my daughter is 60” before she’s even 80 years old. All the while she, herself, watches her own mother grow old. Very old. I don’t like saying those words because the implications are almost too much to consider.

I cannot begin to tell you about the life my grandmother lived and is still living because if I did you’d swear I was exaggerating. She's the epitome of the stereotypical Enneagram 7. She’s still playing bridge, traveling across Texas to visit kin, dressing in her rhinestone denim and watching her Dallas Cowboys just like her mother did! She’s always been the essence of living life to the fullest. She taught me when I was young that ‘life is short…eat dessert first!” That silly little saying has taken on a life of its own as I’ve matured, which is a kinder way of saying ‘grown older’. Today, as I write this, I am three weeks away from welcoming my fifth grandchild, a baby girl who will join this circle of fifth generation women. The balancing act is harder than I let on…trying to be the fun grand mom who’s up for anything; the mom who works hard to empower my own children to know they are rockin’ it at this parenting gig all while holding my breath (and my tongue at times) knowing this is their time and being a grandmother is not a do-over; being a daughter who is becoming keenly aware that my own mom, the one who has been the matriarchic, party-thrower, Summa-cum laude college graduate at 36, business owner, defender, fearless leader in so many ways, is slowing down. She and I are in that part of the race where she is passing the torch as I’m reaching to grab it. And finally, being a granddaughter who wishes for a few more years when maybe I’m not so busy where I can just sit with my grandmother, my Muz, and hear more stories, eat more pie, go fishing at the bay one more time or just be the little girl who sat on the porch with her on a hot summer’s day, blowing bubbles and watching them float away. #midlife #midlifewomen #enneagram7 #aging #parenting #grandparent #enneagramcoach


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