In this new season of life—early into retirement with grown adult children fully into charting their careers and raising children, I’ve found myself reviewing my own life and that review includes a perusal of parenting.
Sometimes when I look back on my life, it seems like the years of early parenting were just a blur of endurance, living each day just to get to the next. I know we were more intentional than that, but the memories that stick out for me are the moments of stress and uncertainty and the simple weight of caring for other people.
At first, I found myself revisiting, reviewing and even critiquing the trajectory of parenting in those years. Seeing places where I felt inadequate, knowing there were times of triumph but not resting there in satisfaction.
The stand-out moments seem so clear to me. My adult kids, though, remember an entirely different set of moments; largely moments I either do not remember or remember quite differently. Maybe this is typical. I think it may be.
Different Generations, Different Memories
For instance, I remember with panicked clarity an episode in the bathroom that ended with a broken mirror and the wild relief that came with the realization that no one had a scratch on them. There were tears. Despite the fact that both of my children were in the room, neither remembers the event. On the other hand, what seemed to me a rather innocuous urging of my son to just “drink the milk” at an airport meal—just to be sure he had some food value before flying—is a life-searing memory of parental pressure, more tears, and vomiting for him.
In the earliest days, what I do remember, though, is the mystical time of yearning for a child, the counting of days, the excitement of using one of the first-generation home pregnancy tests, a call to the doctor, and the confirmation of a new life. We simply moved from one day to the next through that process and then we entered a time of more counting, waiting, and finally—a baby was born. (Life did not proceed so simply all the time, and my husband and I experienced a measure of grief and loss during those years, too.)
Through all of this, my faith has held me firm. Even when times felt like they were spiraling ahead without a plan, I knew God was with me, in our lives. A favorite verse remains with me even as I age:
Though the Lord may give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself any more, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’ (Isaiah 30:20-21)
This is the way, walk in it. Keep going. Persevere through adversity.
Season of Grandparenting
But moving through this next season of life, now a grandparent I find a different sense of parenting. I find myself not in such a season of judgment, but one of reflection and a sense of providence in life. The presence of God in every step on the way is much more evident to me. I can see the whole of the arc of caring and nurturing and know that, with God’s steadying hand, I did parent well and with care. Even when my husband died when our children were teenagers, this confidence sustained me. Take one step, then another. And we did.
Today, my perspective is one of looking forward. I am learning so much from my adult children and their spouses; I have more time to consider how to respond to grandchildren; our time together is cherished rather than endured, intentional rather than formless.
I find myself looking forward, sensing a responsibility to a future I may not see. Thinking about and planning ways to fill my grandchildren with the power of my love, the sense of a God they can trust, the joy and hope of new life. Rather than turning over the crystalized moments of life in the past, I want to pull them into the days ahead.
Scripture Through Hymns
Scripture comes to me in this season, of course, from a favorite hymn. Psalm 145 says: “One generation will call to the next: ‘Our God is good, and God’s hand is strong!’ All of the world sings his marvelous acts, and our voice will join with theirs in the song.” Each generation takes up the song of God’s providence, the refrain of a family’s history and traditions, the tune of life in harmony with one another and with God’s purposes.
This is the way, walk in it to sing God’s song into the next generation.
I pray that my grandchildren will come to know a power greater than themselves, rooted in love, grounded in the beauty of the world, sustained to purpose that brings them joy.
Maybe this is not the day-to-day safety of electrical outlet caps and the ever-present commitment to healthy eating, the responsibility of care, or the teaching of boundaries and limits of first-time parenting. This is the spaciousness of simply loving grandchildren into the people they will become—with joy and security.
May it be so.
For Reflection (either individually or with a group)
Read the blog. Read it a second time, maybe reading it aloud or asking someone else to read it aloud so you can hear it with different intonation and emphases. Invite the Divine to open your heart to allow the light of new understanding to pierce the shadows of embedded assumptions, stereotypes, and ways of thinking so that you may live more abundantly. Then spend some time with the following questions together with anything or anyone who helps you reflect more deeply.
Download a pdf including the Reflection Questions to share and discuss with friends, family, or members of your faith community small group.
Courtesy of The Center for Abundant Aging, promoting the riches of Abundant Aging; advocating for an inclusive society that conquers ageism; and delivering education and resources to transform how we think about elderhood.
Blog: Copyright 2025, Rev. Ruth D. Fitzgerald. All Rights Reserved.
Photo designed by Freepik.