On Giving You Grandchildren

I know I sort of missed the Mother's Day boat, but my mom has complained in the past that I always right about my dad instead of her. So I wrote her a poem. Look, Mom, I wrote you a poem!

On Giving You Grandchildren

You say you want to be a grandma.
Not in the guilt-inducing your reproduction of our race
 Is ultimately about me way,
Just a factual I want to be a grandma way.

And I think, Heck, Mom.
I want to be a grandma. All that unconditional
Love and wisdom. Wrinkles notwithstanding,
Maybe we should be grandmas before we're moms.

But I want you to be a grandma too.
Not just because it would make you happy,
Not just because it would make me happy--
In a hypothetical future in which I understand
How you could possibly stand in front of a holy man and commit to someone
That (here in the Mormon world) you may have known less than a year--
Not jut because of that.
But because I want to understand how you love me as much as you do.

One of the reasons I like growing up
Aside from the eating peanut butter for dinner if I want to
(I don't actually do that, Mom I promise)
Is that moving a sea and several states away
Has forced me to be responsible from making grocery lists and judging when,
Exactly, it is absolutely necessary to laundry
And this has given me a different way to talk to you.
And I love talking to you--
I have always loved talking to you--
But I love talking to you as an adult
As well as your daughter.

I will love talking to you as a mother
When I finally understand how you love me as wisely as you do.
I will love loving you even more when you are a grandma
And I understand how you love me.