my grams turned 89 a few days ago. though she treats life like she is pushing 30.

i mean, i dont know another 89-year-old who is as freakin good at cheating at cards, can mack a rum-n-coke nightcap like a warm glass of milk, and still raises havoc around the neighborhood with her boyfriend. she’s a handful.

recently, though, grandma ended up in the hospital–having difficulty eating, super weak, and a little incoherent. the doctor was really wondering if she would make it out. family members started to visit iowa to “stop in” and say hi. i stayed home and wondered.

i wondered about the life she has lived, the children she raised, the grandkids she adored, the husband she lived life with–who loved her dearly, but also loved the bottle enough to place her second. she has seen a few wars in her day, seen a few farms go under, seen a few presidents come, lead, and go.

reading the bible i get the sense human beings were created with an innate desire for greatness and for value. we see this in athletes, community leaders, soccer moms, and everyone else you look at close enough to peer past the outer facade.

so did my grandma desire greatness? has she seen her life as valuable? how would she describe the past 50 years or so in st. charles, a small town outside des moines, iowa? does she have regrets? does she ever wish she did more?

one look at my grams would tell you she has arm-wrestled life, and won. done and done. she has loved and been loved, she has impacted hundreds of lives in only the way she can. what more would you expect.

in some ways, i look at my grandma’s life with a sense of jealousy/admiration. not a day goes by that i dont wrestle with greatness and value; and yet, when all the cards are played and im sitting at my 89th bday party–ace up my sleeve, nightcap in hand, gf on lap–will i have the same sense of easy-going, “ive arrived” feeling? one can only hope, eh?