A Child in Your Bed

“What you need is a child in your bed,” said Monsignor Ndeukoya. I stared blankly. Not wanting to be rude and too tired to argue, I remained silent. I was at my worst then, too weak to even stand and shower. The last thing I could imagine wanting was a child in my bed. He looked at me intently. “You see, you Americans are so isolated, so disconnected from your family. The generations aren’t together. Look at you. Your family is in this city, but you live alone. Your grandchildren connect you to life.” Monsignor was from Moshi, Tanzania, on Mt. Kilimanjaro.

As much as I tried to dismiss what he said, I couldn’t. Here I was fighting as hard as I could to remain independent. But that night, as I went to sleep, I thought of my one year old first grand child. I went and found my teddy bear and slept thinking of her. Maybe he was right.

Tonight, as I write, both my grandchildren are here-still awake and yes, they are in my bed! And Monsignor’s words came back. We don’t have to have a child in our bed, but it helps to have one in our lives. If you don’t have one, borrow one, even if it’s only for an hour. Let yourself see through their eyes. Sing silly songs. Laugh. We sang “Cheeseburger in Paradise” over and over, and each time the 4 year old change the words and we roared! “Cheese burger and pair of mice!” Crunchy! Monsignor was right.