The crowd was slim, just Dave and me, GrandmaMA and GrandpaPA, and JJVC (John, Jameson, Vicky, and Carly). When I offered to call off the supper, John and Vicky declined. "We've already bought the stuff for the party," John said. "We promised these kids a Valentine's party and we're going to have one!" Vicky added.
Dave and I brought heart-shaped boxes of chocolates for everyone. "Yes," John told Jameson and Carly when they asked, "You can open it now, but you'll have to wait until after dinner to eat it." Both J & C placed their boxes on their dinner plates and Jameson treated Grammy to a review of his latest monster trucks and a personal viewing of a half-way-arrived molar.
Carly followed with a request, "Grammy, bounce me." I sat on one of the slipper chairs in the den, took her on my lap facing me, and bumped her up and down. It was natural to start singing, "I love you, a bushel and a peck..." After several 'sing-it-again'-s, I switched to "You Are My Sunshine."
When Good-Old-Grammy tired of that one, Carly made a new request. "Sing 'Whole World in His Hands.'"
"Hm," I answered, "Didn't know you even knew that song. Let's get a nose-wipe first." A cold has been stalking the child for several days; she tumbled to the floor and brought back two tissues. And then I launched into one verse after another while Carly joined me in-between bounces.
"Carly," I said, "We have to make up some new verses. Let's sing 'mama and daddy' now."
He's got Mama and Daddy in His hands. "How about Granny?" I asked, referring to Carly's maternal grandmother.
"Yeah...and Justin," she answered, referring to her 17-year-old male cousin. After Granny and Justin, we blessed Dave and Jameson, Darrin and Dana, Sophie and Cameron (the Shih-tzus), Jade and Anjie, GrandmaMA and GrandpaPA, Miss Jen and Mama (Miss Jen being the pre-school teacher, and Mama - well, I think it was because Mama seemed to fit).
We sang about everyone that Carly could think of. Afraid that I would announce the end to the bouncy singing, she began requesting the insertion of objects. "Computer and bag, sing 'computer and bag,'" she ordered. So we did - and more. Table and chairs, "car and car," plates and refrigerator. We alternated between our serious voices and our silly sounds. And we bounced.
GrandpaPA laughed with the arrival of each new set of items. "These will be Carly's memories of her Grammy. You're creating something that you don't even know," he mused.
Rescued by the call to dinner! There were places for all of us at the big table since our group was small - no TV trays, no children at the "little table" at this party! Carly sat to my right. Before anyone noticed and before the first strand of spaghetti hit her plate, she finished off her first chocolate. "Okay, Honey, you weren't supposed to be eating chocolates before dinner. Let's wait until after dinner, okay?" her daddy reminded her. But Carly was on a chocolate "trip" and as she bit into the second of the four candies, I whispered (humorously, I thought), "Hey, let's just put this lid back on this box so you won't get in trouble with Daddy..." The tears started to fall.
"Ohhhhhhhh, Carly...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," I told her. "Come here," and I took her in my lap. Noting Vicky's quick look toward her weepy little girl, I said, "I scolded her for eating more chocolate..."
"Oh, no, that's not it," Vicky assured me as she served the pasta. "There's something else... she's just not feeling well. John, do you want to take her in the bedroom and clean her up?"
"Well, I do think she feels warm," I answered. John took her in his arms into the bedroom. They returned in just a few minutes, chocolate washed away, nose cleaned, eyes wiped. She climbed in my lap, laid her head on my chest and sucked her thumb. I stroked her hair until she was ready to eat spaghetti.
On Monday, I received an email from a trusted website spiritualityandpractice.com. A friend and I are studying readings by Joyce Rupp in an e-course offered by this site. Fred and Mary Ann Brussat wrote this intro for the day: Joyce Rupp has written about Sophia, the Wise and Radiant One, as she calls her, and has given retreats devoted to how we might connect with her. The wisdom literature of the Bible is filled with insights into her ways and transformative powers. The following prayer to Sophia beautifully describes her nurturing presence and one of the many liberations she offers us. — FAB and MAB
Comforting Mother,— Joyce Rupp in Prayers to Sophia
take me in your arms and hold me close.
Give me room to shed my tears.
Grant me strength to meet my anger.
Help me to release the dormant, painful emotions
that keep me from peace and contentment.
I lean on your bosom and find solace there.
The strong pull of your nurturing love
gives me the courage to not run away.
I can meet the feelings that haunt my dreams.
I can face the emotions that crave my attention.
Let me slowly find and embrace the leftover grief,
the unwept tears, the unattended pain.
They are buried in years of keeping busy,
lost in the accumulation of neglect,
hidden in a heart so heavy with hurt
that the voice of the past could not be heard.
Support, comfort, and tenderly nurture me
as I befriend these voices of pain.
Enfold me in your healing embrace
while I bid farewell to these ancient sores.
When I imagined being comforted by Sophia, she became first my paternal grandmother – and then I thought, “Funny, I didn’t know Grandmother Blair that well.” My maternal grandmother did not exhibit the ability to nurture. We lived far away from aunts and uncles. Then I realized that I did not know anyone in my family who would have embraced me as Sophia does in this reading. I’m not saying there were not nurturing women among the Blairs, the Shoemakes, the Dickenses and the Bushes, but I didn’t know them.
This morning, I’m hoping that Carly will always remember that Grammy hugged her close and comforted her and sang songs to her, that she will have plenty of imagination - for Sophia.
***
"Carly, which do you want?" I asked, as the big glass tray of cream puffs, mangoes, pineapple, and strawberries came to our place.
"Puff, shtrawbewwy..." and she pointed to the pineapple and mango.
"Wait, you don't have a plate - Do you just want me to put your fruit on my plate?"
"Yes," she nodded, and climbed in my lap. "Grammy, I don't want sauce on mine."
"Okay," I answered - as I wiped off the strawberries. I think I got two pineapple chunks and a sliver of mango.
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