Remember to Breathe
By Joyce Catherwood
I have
five absolutely gorgeous and delightful teenaged granddaughters, ages 13 to
18, who live nearby. It was so simple to interact with them when they were
little girls, happily playing dress-up or making mud pies. But the days of
ribbons and bows and little froufrou dresses are over. I sometimes struggle
to maintain the same intensity of interaction now that they are in their
teens.
Generational gaps have a way of
widening without warning. I already have the reputation of needing to be
"protected" from some of the pressures of their teen-aged world. More than
once they’ve said: "We didn’t tell you because we didn’t want you to worry."
Recently,
clever girl that she is and knowing that Papa and Mema speak French, our
18-year-old granddaughter asked us how to say "breathe" in that language.
She wanted it tattooed on her wrist. Well, the three of us immediately
became engaged in a deep discussion about how "breathe" could best be
translated, have a nice ring to it, and still convey the meaning of
remembering to breathe, i.e., to give yourself some space. Later, our
daughter asked us very politely if we realized that we were giving our
lovely granddaughter tacit approval for a tattoo. Uh, no… We didn’t. That
had gone completely over our heads.
OK, so what’s a grandma to do?
Just how is it possible to retain a viable grandparently presence that my
granddaughters think is "cool," without it being interpreted as Mema
meddling. That’s my dilemma!
Could it be they simply need an
environment where they can "remember to breathe"? A temporary escape from
their teen-aged world of injustices, peer pressure, jealous classmates,
embarrassment, puberty? A refuge from demanding classes and teachers,
boyfriends, new-driver classes, fender-benders, jobs, interviews, auditions,
recitals, movies, texting, Twittering, Facebook?
Does grandma really need to be
"protected" from their reality? Especially when they’re the ones who
occasionally need some refuge from their whirlwind, often confusing
lifestyle, and grandma might just be one of their only safe havens.
I don’t think so. If the ambiance
created by grandparents is blighted by the usual generational
misunderstandings and shocked reactions, teenagers won’t want to "hang out"
there. I’m thinking a lot more can be accomplished by providing an inviting
space for them, emotional or physical or both, where they really can
"remember to breathe."
A safe place where they can feel
free to unburden if they want to, or just close the door and read Harry
Potter. They are not naïve. They already have a good idea of what I would
approve or disapprove of. I’m not sure how much spoken "guidance" they
really need from me, unless it is solicited. They get plenty of guidance at
home.
More importantly, maybe in some
small way, finding refuge with grandparents could also help them understand
that Jesus is also always there to provide breathing room for them in the
midst of life’s troubles. He literally did just that for a 12-year-old girl
and her parents almost 2,000 years ago.
When Jesus entered the home of
Jairus and his wife, it was filled with mourners playing funeral dirges on
flutes and people clamoring, wailing, scoffing and fretting. Inside a back
room lay their beloved only child on a bed. She was dead.
Jesus shouted above the ruckus,
telling them all to get out. Only Jesus, three of his disciples, and the
parents remained. By ejecting the crowd, he had given the hassled and
grieving mom and dad room to breathe. Then, in a calm, non-judgmental
environment, Jesus bent over their daughter, affectionately took her hand
and told her to rise up, to breathe once again! Not missing a beat, he then
encouraged the astounded and joyful parents to give her something to eat.
She was hungry after her ordeal. And I don’t think Jesus meant for them to
give her sprouted bread and Brussels sprouts. I think he meant for them to
give her something special. Something she really liked, maybe a
first-century version of mac and cheese and Sunkist!
I do so admire those grandparents
who have figured out how to give their teenaged grandchildren space so they
can "remember to breathe." If I revealed the contents of this article to my
granddaughters, they would say I try too hard and worry too much. That’s
probably true, but sadly, I can think of all too many failed opportunities
to provide breathing room for them.
Actually, "giving yourself some
space" is not bad advice for all of us, young and old. So, next time life
seems to be closing in on you, or your loved ones, take a big, deep breath.
Détends-toi et respire—remember to breathe.