It's official. My transformation into suburban soccer mom is complete.
Okay, that might not be entirely true, seeing as how my son only is 14 months old and slighter taller than a soccer ball. However, I have acquired the new status symbol of motherhood: the minivan.
In all honesty, I have secretly desired to own a minivan for years. Stereotypes aside, I loved the functionality, the space, the storage — what wasn't to like?
But I never had a reason to purchase one before. It would seem a little silly to see me cruising down the street in my Chrysler Town & Country, window down, jamming to Alanis Morissette in my late teens — or even Foo Fighters in my late 20s.
But having a baby helped me achieve my lifelong dream of owning one of these fine beauties.
My ascension up the suburban ladder was aided by my late grandmother, who bequeathed her minivan to me. It was a bittersweet moment to pick it up this past weekend. On the one hand, it felt wonderful to know that my grandma was helping my family. On the other hand, it felt awkward and wrong to benefit from her passing.
As I slowly started to go through the personal possessions she left in the van, I noticed a yellow piece of paper. I unfolded it, and discovered it was a letter my grandmother had written to us, her family, in the context of her passing.
She wrote it seven years ago, when she was 79 years old. At the time, I hadn't met my husband, and my two younger cousins were barely teenagers. I began to cry as I read her words:
"You'll never know how much I have loved you — each and every one."
She went on to provide some of the best advice:
• "Youth is precious — don't waste it."
• "If you choose to get an education — work hard at it."
• "The profession you choose should be more than a living."
• "Look past the romantic side of marriage to the day-after-day part of it."
• "When all the plans are made, learn when to be flexible."
• "Compromise is one of the most important things in all aspects of our lives."
Hearing those sage words gave me an incredible amount of closure, and it made me feel more at peace driving that minivan home. Grandma wanted to the best for us and would have insisted I take it anyway.
Now, as I cruise down the street this summer with my window down listening to Adelle, I don't care if people see me as a soccer mom. In fact, I don't care how people see me at all. I've got a great kid, a great life, a great family and a promising future. And I've got great memories of a great lady fueling me forward.
— Sarah Leach is the content editor at The Holland Sentinel. Contact her at (616) 546-4278 or sarah.leach@hollandsentinel.com.
Okay, that might not be entirely true, seeing as how my son only is 14 months old and slighter taller than a soccer ball. However, I have acquired the new status symbol of motherhood: the minivan.
In all honesty, I have secretly desired to own a minivan for years. Stereotypes aside, I loved the functionality, the space, the storage — what wasn't to like?
But I never had a reason to purchase one before. It would seem a little silly to see me cruising down the street in my Chrysler Town & Country, window down, jamming to Alanis Morissette in my late teens — or even Foo Fighters in my late 20s.
But having a baby helped me achieve my lifelong dream of owning one of these fine beauties.
My ascension up the suburban ladder was aided by my late grandmother, who bequeathed her minivan to me. It was a bittersweet moment to pick it up this past weekend. On the one hand, it felt wonderful to know that my grandma was helping my family. On the other hand, it felt awkward and wrong to benefit from her passing.
As I slowly started to go through the personal possessions she left in the van, I noticed a yellow piece of paper. I unfolded it, and discovered it was a letter my grandmother had written to us, her family, in the context of her passing.
She wrote it seven years ago, when she was 79 years old. At the time, I hadn't met my husband, and my two younger cousins were barely teenagers. I began to cry as I read her words:
"You'll never know how much I have loved you — each and every one."
She went on to provide some of the best advice:
• "Youth is precious — don't waste it."
• "If you choose to get an education — work hard at it."
• "The profession you choose should be more than a living."
• "Look past the romantic side of marriage to the day-after-day part of it."
• "When all the plans are made, learn when to be flexible."
• "Compromise is one of the most important things in all aspects of our lives."
Hearing those sage words gave me an incredible amount of closure, and it made me feel more at peace driving that minivan home. Grandma wanted to the best for us and would have insisted I take it anyway.
Now, as I cruise down the street this summer with my window down listening to Adelle, I don't care if people see me as a soccer mom. In fact, I don't care how people see me at all. I've got a great kid, a great life, a great family and a promising future. And I've got great memories of a great lady fueling me forward.
— Sarah Leach is the content editor at The Holland Sentinel. Contact her at (616) 546-4278 or sarah.leach@hollandsentinel.com.
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