Just Like Grandma

Leah Grace and Grandma Hogan

Last week we sat on the bench at church. Three of my four kids were packed around me like ants on a sugar cube. Their warm bodies pressed against mine, either on my lap or next to me, constantly in motion. Sometimes that bugs me and I crave space or want to savor a single body at a time. But this time it felt so good. Having them close, knowing that's where they chose to be, gave me a feeling of fulfillment. Leah grabbed my upper arm and massaged it back and forth from one hand to the other. "You're arms wiggle. They're almost like Grandma's." At one time I may have taken offense at that, but I took it as a compliment. Having ample upper arms isn't something one aspires to unless you equate it to maturing and mothering. More arms to comfort you, my Leah, and a softer place to rest your head. I hope she sees other things in me that are just like Grandma.