Trena Eiden

Recently our Texas daughter-in-law, Gelly, looked over our grandson Rome’s shoulder. He was supposed to be doing schoolwork, but instead had googled, “What can I do with nuclear waste?” She told him to get back to work, which he did, but later as she looked, he’d asked, “Where can I buy plutonium?” She scolded, “Stop doing that. We’re gonna have someone knocking on our door, and if I’m arrested, I’ll have to say my 10-year-old did it.” She left him to finish his paper while she cooked dinner. Later, when he saw her coming, he jokingly typed, “How old do you have to be to bartend in Texas?” Poor moms.  

Our two granddaughters, Mads and Lyds, ages 13 and 11, live in Florida and have played the violin for over seven years. There was a day we wondered if all the neighborhood dogs would come to see what the racket was, but the girls have since become proficient and play beautifully. Last December they were asked to perform in the Emerald Coast High Honors Orchestra with other student virtuosos and several professionals.

On the day of the concert, we traveled separately, with our daughter-in-law, Wends, driving the girls early to the city, so all the musicians could practice together for the first time before the concert that night. Our son, Tanner, left his practice early, and drove with Gar, me and our two grandsons, Weston, 9 and Ryder, 7.  

After the performance, driving home in the dark, I sat by Ryder. We were turning onto their street when he quietly murmured, “I’m hot.” Then he called out, “Dad, I’m hot!” Immediately Tanner turned on the air conditioning and rolled down the windows as he pulled into their driveway. Too late. Ryder was carsick and erupted, not unlike Old Faithful, covering himself, his car seat, the truck’s floor and his Gram. Tanner got out, surveyed the damage, headed Ryder to the shower and regarded me with an incredulous, “We almost made it” look. Wends pulled in behind us and upon hearing the news, with a mother’s efficiency, went straight to the house.

In two minutes, she was back, towels and a bucket of soapy water in one hand, a bucket of clear water in the other. She pulled out the car seat, undid the straps and began scrubbing. I took a picture. She was in a beautiful, dark green dress, pantyhose and high heels, with her long, dark curls cascading down her back. If she had a curse word on her lips, she never uttered it. I was smitten. 

A few weeks earlier, our Texas grands had been sick with multiple ailments, sore throats, diarrhea, vomiting and fever. Some had gotten well and were back in school. One seemed better, but while riding to school and just before exiting the vehicle, vomited everywhere like only kids can. That afternoon I visited with Gelly, who’d just finished washing the backpack, shampooing the car’s carpets and scrubbing the car seat. She, like Wends, wasn’t in foul humor, wasn’t grouchy nor complaining. She simply sighed, then chuckled that apparently Avy wasn’t well after all. 

I know our other daughter-in-law Stephanie, has had similar circumstances since she’s the mother of three, including our oldest grandson, who just turned 16. We are mesmerized by this precious trio, who put their children and husbands first.  

Last Mother’s Day Gar and I, sitting in a pew waiting for church to start, chatted about our adorable grafted-in-daughters and I said I hoped that one day their children would realize how amazing their mothers are.

During the sermon the pastor said, “If a mother was lying in a coffin at the front of the church, her children would give a precious testimony of her.” With a grimace I leaned toward Gar, “If I was up there lying in a coffin, and our kids had to give a testimony about me, I’m pretty sure the only thing they’d think to say would be, “She could really hold a grudge.”  

Moms, just know, no matter how great you are and how many wonderful things you do, there’ll come a day when those kids will grow up and, to your face, declare, “Why’d you make us do that, that was really dumb.” But the grandkids will hold you spellbound. Recently, 10-year-old Romes related, “Grammy, you wanna know something ridiculous? At most places, you can’t rent a car until you’re 21, but you can rent a U-Haul at 18, and that doesn’t even make sense.”