Also see Grandparents.
Child of my child,
Heart of my heart,
Your smile bridges the years between us--
I am young again discovering the world
through your eyes.
You have the time to listen
And I have the time to spend.
Delighted to gaze at familiar,
loved features, made new in you again.
Through you, I'll see the future
Through me, you'll know the past
In the present we'll love one another
As long as these moments last.
Note:Use the above poem in a sentiments album.
Some ideas for photos:
Line one parent and child
Line three smiley pics
Line four exploring pic
Line nine parent and child
Line ten young child 'playing' the piano
Line eleven heritage photo
Line twelve grandparent and child
Telling stories, buying ice cream, playing silly games,
Hugging, kissing, tickling, giggling, making up fun names.
Going fishing, baby-sitting, tucking in at night,
Dreaming, reading, make-believing, holding hands real tight.
Having picnics, watching movies, buying toys and things--
These are just a few of the joys that being a Grandparent brings!
I've seen the lights of Paris
I've seen the lights of Rome
But the greatest lights I've ever seen
Are the tail lights of my children's car
Taking my grandkids home.
She rocks another baby . . .
hums an age-old lullaby.
She hopes no one is watching
as with thanks, she starts to cry.
Remembering the time
when the babies were her own,
And her mother told her gently
too soon they would be grown.
Lots of bedtime stories,
skinned knees, and tears to dry,
Teddy bears, toy trucks and dolls
and kites up in the sky.
First days of school, first loves, first cars,
the proms, the wedding days,
Sand castles and snowball fights
and teaching them to pray.
Now, as she holds her grandchild
and gives thanks unto the Lord,
She knows to be a grandma
is motherhood's reward!
(by Robert Beau)
I stood there just looking around
There was no music, hardly heard a sound.
On the other side of the glass, I saw you there
You were so cute; you did not have much hair.
Sure there were others but it didn't matter to me
They were not as pretty; it was you I came to see.
They brought you to the window so near
I fought to hold back the tear.
You had your mother's eyes we all knew
They were sparkling and so blue.
A grin appeared, it might be gas
But I did not care; you were such a pretty lass.
Although your parent I may not be
Hopefully you'll spend some time with me.
You see grandparents have a special role
They are in charge of the baby's soul.
If we were granted any wish, I'll tell you what we'd do,
We'd wish our kids were small again, for just a month or two.
To hear their squeals of laughter, to watch them while they play.
And when they ask us to join in, we wouldn't say, "Not today."
To hug again their chubby frames, to kiss away their tears,
and cherish childhood innocence that washed away the years.
Then when it's story time again, we'd stay a little longer,
to answer questions, sing the songs, so memories would be stronger.
But time is callous, wishes, myth, yet God in all his wisdom,
has given us another chance before we join his kingdom.
Your faces may not be just the same, your names are changed, 'tis true,
but yet the smile that radiates, reminds us so much of you.
God must have known that grandparents would need a chance or two.
For many little happy things we hadn't time to do.
So God gave love to grandparents to equal that before, that,
in effect embraces those little lives they bore.
You used to wake us in the night,
Your childish needs to fill--
A drink, a swift assurance
Your fears to still.
Then came the times we lay awake
Waiting the moment you came in,
You still seemed like the little girl
That you had been.
Now you are gone we often wake
And ache for years so swiftly fled,
And sometimes go and stand beside
Your empty bed.
Yet seeing small and lovely ones
With your same eyes
We sleep, Aware that neither one
Would have it otherwise.
"Just happen to have them with me . . . "
This is what I say.
But when you come down to it,
I plan it just that way!
Just happen to have the pictures
Of my sweet grandchildren here--
I like it when folks say, "He's cute,"
Or, "Isn't she a dear?"
Grandparents keep these photographs
And show them near and far . . .
Their pride is understandable--
That's how grandparents are!
(Laurie E. Dawson)
The little red rocker was just the right size
To rock her baby doll that had sleepy eyes;
She sang lullabies and crooned soft and low
To the land of sweet dreams where sleepy dolls go.
The little girl soon outgrew the red chair,
The years seemed to fly that we had to share;
Then one day she left for her home that was new
Leaving behind the sleepy doll too.
Years later at Christmas she came for a stay
To visit Grandmother and make her heart gay.
She brought her little girl who was bonny and fair
And just the right size for the red rocking chair.
Then grandmother came with the doll from the shelf
To place in her arms, so the lassie herself
Could sing lullabies and croon soft and low
To the land of sweet dreams where sleepy dolls go.
(There is another poem about a rocking chair in the Fairies file.)
One would think
I would be comparing you
to your mom, to your dad,
to your aunts, and to your uncles . . .
they were all precious
even as you are precious
but there is no comparison.
Just as each of them came to us unique
so have you come, being you yourself
and unlike any other since the world began.
Even your name is right for you
as tho you chose it for yourself . . .
I think you came
with a special delivery tag:
"I am Sarah--love me!"
and we do!
We tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse.
For my grandchildren, I'd know better.
I'd really like for them to know about hand-me-down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover meat loaf.
I really would.
My cherished grandson,
I hope you learn humility by being humiliated
and that you learn honesty by being cheated.
I hope you learn to make your bed and mow the lawn and wash the car--
and I hope nobody gives you a brand-new car when you are sixteen.
And I hope you have a job by then.
It will be good if at least one time you can see a baby calf born and see your old dog put to sleep.
I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in.
I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother.
And it is all right to draw a line down the middle of the room, but--
when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he's scared--
I hope you'll let him.
And when you want to see a Disney movie and your kid brother wants to tag along--
I hope you take him.
I hope you have to walk uphill with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely.
And rainy days when you have to hitch a ride
I hope your driver doesn't have to drop you two blocks away so you won't be seen riding with somebody as uncool as your mom.
If you want a slingshot I hope your father teaches you how to make one instead of buy one.
I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books,
and when you learn to use those new-fangled computers,
you also learn how to add and subtract in your head.
I hope you get razzed by friends when you have your first crush on a girl,
and that when you talk back to your mother I hope you learn what Ivory soap tastes like.
May you skin your knee climbing a mountain, burn your hand on the stove
and stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole.
I hope you get sick when some stupid old person blows cigar smoke in your face.
I don't care if you try beer once, but I hope you won't like it.
And if a friend offers you a joint or any dope
I hope you are smart enough to realize he is not your friend.
I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch with your grandpa
or go fishing with your uncle.
May you feel sorrow at a funeral and the joy of holidays.
I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through a neighbor's window
and that she hugs you and kisses you at Christmas time,
when you give her a plaster of Paris mold of your hand.
These things I wish for you--
tough times and disappointment,
I traced the hands of my children and my nephews and cut them out of different colored paper. I then stacked them all on top of each other, fanning out the fingers to make a flower. Title: "Grandchildren are the Flowers in the Garden of Life". (Nancy Lewandowski)
I helped my sister create a fast, simple album of her twelve grandchildren. She wanted to organize their school pictures. They are avid gardeners, so the title page was "Grandma and Grandpa's Garden" with flower and vine stickers encircling the words. On the next page, are pictures of them and various grandchildren (making sure to include everyone).
I made each grandchild a title page. Very simple with a "sideline" of their name, sometimes with a patterned paper background. For example, one grandson is a hockey player. Down the right side of his page, about an inch from the edge of the page is a design line sticker with "Clint" spelled vertically between the design line and the edge of the page, and frog stickers "playing" hockey above and below the name.
I used a page for each grandchild, incorporating bits of their personality into their title using stickers. We put baby/toddler photos on the title page, then put school photos in chronological order on the back. (Crop the photos so more fit on a page!) Pages can be added as needed.
The grandchildren live nearby and often check grandma's progress with their section! I see the positive effect that creating a tangible expression of their grandmother's love for each of them as INDIVIDUALS--not just part of the bunch!
Even through the grandkids all love their photos in the book, what they like most are grandma's thoughts about each of them that was written on their page next to their photos! Even the little ones who can't read yet focus on "what did Grandma say about me?" Words completes an album! (Lyn)