I did not experience living near extended family growing. Most relatives were in the Midwest, and we lived out west: New Mexico and California.

Just about every other year, we made the drive cross country to see family, and as we were a family of eight, we were usually split up while we were there to stay with cousins our age. That’s how I learned about Iowa farms: collecting and candling eggs (I hate chickens flying at my head), bottle feeding calves, pulling corn out of the bean fields, riding double on a pony in the grass-filled ditches next to gravel roads, calling every piece of farm equipment a tractor, and laughing at myself as a city kid among farmers. It was lovely! Then we went to the south side of Chicago. Ryan and I usually stayed with the Van Drunen. The boys had nicknames: Milt was Mickey and Ryan was Ryanocerous. The two Kathies had to add Sue and Jo to their names. We ran through the whole neighborhood.

My grandma Bosma was a widow, with a large garden–she farmed this garden til her death from cancer. She came to stay with us when Mom had two younger brothers. She was strict, but had such kind hands, and the place beside her as she worked was always open to me. She died when I was ten.

My Huizenga grandparents also visited us in Calfornia. I have vivid preschool memories of Grandpa sitting in the wing chair in the living room, and Grandma having coffee in the kitchen with my mom as I came in from playing outside.

But these were visits, not part of my every day life. And, to me, this made a hole in my life. I watched other families interplay with their extended family, and was–to be honest–jealous. So I made up a vision in my head of what grandparents would be, and even when we lived close to one set or the other, they didn’t match the expectation I had. It took me years to realize that I needed to let them be grandparents in the way that fit who they were, rather than my imagined picture that noone could measure up to.

And now we, John and I, are the grandparents. And we are so privileged to live close enough to have personal ongoing relationships with our grandchildren. And now some are moving further away, spreading their wings, and we are blessed with strong relationships that togetherness brings.

This meandering blog was written late, halfway into Monday morning, because last week was full of grandparenting that included travel, full days, and a number of evenings. Totally forgot to write a blog, because I was too busy being blessed.