What I gained (besides weight) at Gramma’s house.
I’m not a busy person by nature. But I’m not really a relaxed person either. I like to write long to-do lists and check things off those lists. But I also like to spend an entire day walking to the park and library and then back to the park just to soak in the sunshine.
Yet, after spending three nights at my Gramma’s house, I realize that I’m still too busy. My life is still too focused on getting things done. Too focused on lists. Too much about stress.
Blame it on city life. Or blame it on American culture. Or blame it on my lack of creativity. But I spend too much time doing stuff. Too much energy has been wasted on things that can wait, can be done in less time (e.g. cleaning), or can be ignored all together.
I want to be the kind of mama that will dance in the living room for an indefinite amount of time, leaving the floor unswept and the phrase “just a minute” unsaid. I want be the kind of wife that can sit and watch a ball game with my husband without having to blog or file paperwork at the same time. I want to be the kind of friend that can have a phone conversation while sitting down and really listening (instead while running errands).
There’s a place for multitasking. There is a time for reading emails and paying bills.
But I’m starting to realize I don’t want those things to intrude on the parts of my life that really matter to me. It’s a lesson I keep re-learning day to day, week to week. All I needed was another reminder.
So thank you, Gramma, for home-cooked meals. Baseball games. Photo albums and old records. Strolls to the park. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the table together. Conversations over a sink of soapy dishes after each meal. Thank you for a place to just be.
I hope there’s a little more of Gramma’s house in our home everyday.