Grandma’s Eggs

A week ago, I attended a family reunion in Southern Utah. It was in honor of my Great Grandparents and their posterity, including 11 children and their families. The cute lady in the center, is my Aunt Joyce, the youngest and only remaining of those 11 children.

My lovely Grandma Barbara is pictured far left. These are her sisters and mother (pictured in the bottom center). I’ve mentioned my Grandma Barbara here on the blog before. She is one of my favorite people.

I learned so much from her.

She was a genius at using what she had to create home. She knew how to create belonging.

A trait I can only imagine she learned from her mother, my Great Grandma Pearl.

Take a look at what Great Grandma Pearl had to work with! She cooked for a family of 11 on a wooden stove in a tiny two bedroom home. Incredible, yes? Though I don’t have any memories of going to “the farm” and eating the food prepared there, I hear it was divine. Grandma Pearl used what she had to create home. She knew how to create belonging.

Once, in my adult years, I was with my Grandma Barbara looking through some charming shops at Gardener Village (a cute farmhouse style set of boutique stores). We came across a picture of a little girl in a 1800 style dress and apron, gathering eggs from a chicken coop.

“Isn’t that charming!” I said. “I’d like to hang that in my home.”

Grandma Barb scoffed and said…”Now why in the world would you want to hang a picture up of a chore I had to do every day when I was a girl. I hated that job. It was not charming.”

I chuckled at her comment then and still do now.

Though Grandma Barb wasn’t a fan of eggs from the coop, the old gal could cook an egg like a pro. I remember shopping at a tiny little market for them with her when I was a girl. In true Grandma fashion, she would cook them “short order” style for my siblings and I. She knew exactly how each us liked them and would chef them up, individually for us.

She did the same for my kids. Old as she was by then, cooking eggs for her great-grandies…she adored it.

She adored us.

She used what she had to create home. It was a small thing, but it generated connection, safety, belonging.

I wonder what these Grandma’s of mine would think of us now, in 2025 with ChatGPT and Amazon Prime and Grocery Pick Up living and breathing right in our pockets. They don’t look anything like a rustic chicken coop or the small town markets of the 1970’s.

But just like they did, we use what we have to create home, don’t we?

I’ve thought a lot about how that’s changed for me over the years. My children are all grown now. Two with families of their own, a daughter navigating single adult years, and two sons in far away countries serving missions. What looked like home in years past, with piles of laundry, bulging grocery lists, endless dishes, meals being cooked on repeat, teenagers breezing in and out, and all the fun and laughter and struggle that goes along with family life, has changed now.

The needs are different. Who would have thought. 😉

What I use to create home and belonging currently looks like Missionary Monday calls, supportive emails sent, a bazillion prayers offered in their behalf, and greater trust in the Lord. It sounds like grandkids running through my house, Sunday dinners, grandma play dates, shopping dates with my granddaughter, encouraging my married kids, more time with MyHandsomeHusband, and just showing up for what my people need in this season.

It’s still home, everyone.

It’s still rooted in love. Isn’t that what our role is, as parents? We create home out of what we have. We stand on the front lines and offer love.

Unconditionally.

Just like He would.

Just like He does.

My love to all of you, dear reader. I’m cheering for you, in whatever season of “home-making” you find yourself. May we all keep adapting and fitting ourselves to what is.