She calls me on a Saturday morning to tell me my granddaughter is argumentative, difficult, and sassy.  For a moment I think she has the wrong number. Those adjectives don’t describe either of my angel granddaughters. But her familiar voice is a giveaway, and she’s the mother of one of those sweet little angels. I try valiantly to be sympathetic, but she can see right through my efforts. “Oh, I know you’re heart is just going pitter-patter and you’re dancing with glee over this conversation,” she tells me. She’s right, but I don’t tell her that. Why add to her frustration?  It took some 35 years for it to happen, and it’s not nearly as satisfying as it might have been when she was growing up. Still, justice has been served.

Regardless of how much love a mother exudes for her child, at some point she utters or shouts the infamous maternal battle cry:  “I hope someday you have a child just like you.” If that child later becomes a parent, it’s guaranteed those words will someday ring loud and long in his or her memory. But by then the mother who was waiting for the thrill of revenge is a grandmother and grandmas aren’t into such negativity. They might resurrect a few colorful details now and again to embellish a story, but the emotional upheaval is finished and put to rest.

I find myself sympathetic to my daughter’s plight. It’s tough being a mom, tougher yet being a good mom and my daughters unquestionably excel as mothers. Much is written and discussed about the benefits of being a grandma. The superlatives are all true and then some. As much as I love my son and two daughters, I find grandchildren a beautiful example of unconditional love. I’m not responsible for their behavior, and I don’t derive my self-worth from them. I can enjoy them and share varied activities and events with them, but I don’t have to worry about the myriad details that parents must consider. When we’re together, it’s like being on vacation. We toss aside schedules and rigidity and drink lemonade out of fancy cups and pretend we’re high society. It’s a great life.

While I’m interacting with my grandchildren, I often wish my parents were alive to see them. They’d derive as much enjoyment from the conversations and antics as I do. One of the trade-offs for having great parents is having to accept the fact that they’ll always be missed. When I think of them it’s often with a sense of wanting to see them again, and much gratitude for all they taught me. My mother insisted I learn to be independent. As a child, I wasn’t interested in those lessons, but as a parent I stressed independence with my children. And I’m thankful my grandchildren are taught it as well.

Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are wonderful opportunities to celebrate our parents. It’s also appropriate to remember how important it is for young parents to hear kind words and sincere compliments. Parenting is difficult. Encouragement helps.

My granddaughters are only five so it’s much too soon to tell their mothers (my daughters) that someday justice will be theirs. I hope and pray to be around for that verbal exchange!