Friday, January 19, 2007

If “Mom” Was So Great Then Why Do I Love “Gramma”

While taking advantage of the cool summer morning, my seven-year-old granddaughter stated, “Gramma you are very old,” as we played in the sand box behind my house. Those words rang loudly in my ears, as I heard her little sister pipe up, “yup Gramma, you are very old.” I looked at both of them with bewilderment and asked, “What is old to you?” “Wrinkles,” said the five year old. “Yup, wrinkles and squishy hugs Gramma,” chimed in the seven year old. “Squishy hugs”, I questioned, “What do you mean squishy hugs?” “You know,” said my seven year old granddaughter, “Only you can give squishy hugs because your tummy is soft and squishy.” “Yeah, squishy hugs Gramma, we love squishy hugs,” joined in my five year old granddaughter. At that very moment it dawned on me that, someone besides me has determined that I was a very old person.

I immediately thought, “No, I am just a very old parent!” Parenting is my third love. My second love is my husband who, proudly answers to, “Grandpa” more these days, than to his own name. Of course, you may already have guessed that my first love is God, the keeper of my faith. Nevertheless, someone now thinks of me as old and squishy! Yet somehow, I just cannot get to the old part, even when I hear the words, “Gramma you are very old.”

It is just amazing how we take on names and characteristics identified by others. Like moss grows on a rock, after a while those names and characteristics just seem to feel comfortable to you.

“Gramma,’ how in the world did I get to the Grandma part of my life? Pondering upon this question, it seems like it was just last week, that I heard my mother yelling from the back porch, “Jewel it is time to come in and eat your supper! By the way, where is your jacket I helped you put on? You are going to catch a cold!” It seems like it was just the other day, that I heard the first words “ma, ma” come from my smiling, chubby cheeked son’s mouth. And wasn’t it yesterday, that I yelled out my own back door, “Okay boys, chows on the table, first one gets the grub. Don’t forget to pick up your jackets you left by the sand box, so the dog doesn’t chew them up.” Well, reality has now set in. I am “Gramma” to more children than I was “Ma, Ma, Mom, or Ma,” too. I am now, “Gramma you are very old,” with squishy hugs to some. I just love that name, “Gramma.”

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Yes Indeed Dreams Really Do Come True!

As a new author, there are days when I think to my self, what in the world am I doing? Then I begin to question my writing by asking myself, "Is what I write going to matter one year from now, let alone ten years from now?"

With these questions floating around in my head, I began to do some long over due e-mail box cleaning out. Then an incredible thing happened, I came upon this poem I had received in an email this last summer, titled "When you thought I wasn't looking." I immediately wondered if this poem is somewhere on the Internet indicating the author? Great poems as this one deserves a tribute to the right full owner.

My Googled search brought about numerous web sites with the poem on them. The best sight for leading me to the right author was on Dr. It is here I learned how long this wonderful tribute to caregivers has been circulating on the Internet. This great poem has taken a cyber-phenomenon path that continued its course not only to my e-mail box, but also to countless others.

At Mary Rita Schilke Korzan’s home page, I learned how this poem has existed since the 1980’s as a tribute to her mother and found its way to the pages of a best seller. "Wow," I thought, what an awesome inspiration to have written something as a tribute to your mother then find it as a treasure for many, which inspired dozens of others to use it to pay tribute again to another person dear to their own hearts. Yes, indeed dreams really do come true! Writing does matter! To view the poem Click here: Mary Rita Schilke Korzan

Visit to read the story of how this poem has become a national phenomenon