a grandpa, a baby, and the sum

Me and Papa- 1990

I spent Father’s Day with my 94 year old Papa, a man who has spent almost an entire century on this earth.  Papa is a proud Ironworker, and his body bears the scars and the aches from all the decades of physical labor.  His hands shake, he can barely hear the conversations around him, and his poor knees have the most terrible time holding his body up anymore.  Every day he fights off pain, but he also fights off pride, as the things he used to do so easily are now nearly impossible.  My Papa is such a good man, with the most gentle and caring heart.  And as someone who has been alive most of the 1900’s, he has lived through a Great Depression, served in a World War, built some of the first buildings in a big city, witnessed the Civil Rights movement integrate white and black, watched his friends' children go off to Vietnam, saw a man walk on the moon and a president be killed, raised children and welcomed grandchildren and great-grandchildren, said goodbye to all of his nine siblings, and saw his own grandson go off to Iraq.  And every July, he had a small garden of fresh raspberries ready to be picked by little hands, cleaned, and eaten with his famous pancakes.   

When I think about my Papa, I see his life as the sum of many, many big things.  I don’t think about the days he worried about putting food on the table or paying the medical bills.  I don’t think about how many weeks he had to heal from his broken back and how painful the process was.  I don’t think about the nights he didn’t sleep worrying about his kids.  I don’t think about the mistakes he made or the fights he had with my grandma.  I just think about the sum of 94 years’ worth of life, and how much I admire about my Papa for really living them.

I am someone who worries a lot about the day to day, much more than might be obvious to anyone but my husband.  But in just over five short months, I’m going to be a mom.  Sometimes I still can’t believe that is a true statement, but I am really going to be a mom.  What I know from living my own life is that there will always be good days and bad days, and a lot of things will happen that I did not see coming and feel totally unprepared for.  What I learn from my Papa’s life is that all of those days, no matter what they bring, add up to a legacy for my family.

Alex's baby blanket, a gift from his Mom

A funny thing happened to me when I found out I was pregnant (that is after I panicked first and called my mom and dad way too early in the morning to ask what to do…), I started to think about the sum, not as much about the individual parts.  I am beginning to think that Alex and I really can love and teach this little baby even with second-hand furniture and a real small fiscal safety net.  I am already watching people show up for us and God provide in ways we had no idea we could expect.  It’s like I am really starting to believe that the sum of my life might just be one big story of me having no idea how I was going to make it through something, and God showing up again, and again, and again.  I have no misconceptions that having and raising a baby will be hard, but I want to believe in the sum, the big story, not in the nights we won’t sleep and the things we won’t be able to afford or the days when life feels anything but peaceful.  I want to always believe that what God is doing in and around me is about the end, it’s about all of it together.  It’s about all of us together.  And it’s about Him. 

My hands have never been so open in expectation, and it is not because I finally get what God has been trying to tell us from the beginning, but it is out of necessity, because I know Alex and I cannot do this alone.  We have a God who cares deeply about the details as he writes the big story, and as this little heart beats inside of me, my own heart is clinging to that beautiful truth.

I am so grateful for the big stories of great lives, including my Papa’s.  They remind me to put my heart only in safe places, to hope only in things that last, to invest only in what I can take with me in the end—God’s word and God’s people.  I don’t think I want to be known for great things, but for a lot of small things that made the sum of my life much more about others, and much more about Jesus, than about me.