One obstacle to the bliss of occupying a kitchen has been the small fact that it isn't, in reality, MY kitchen. It most decidely belongs to my grandparents and they are being gracious hosts to Sara and I so I should not complain. For the most part our arrival, and willingness to cook, has been fortuitous all around. Everyone is eating better and happy tummies mean happy faces and happy many other things.
More than once, however, there has been some questioning about how to gracefully handle what appears to be the grandmother's demotion. Her balance trouble, along with a some small difficulty in remebering, has effectually cut her off from the copious amounts of cooking and hospitality that I remember from my childhood. Grandpa never was a great one in the kitchen and I know he is glad to share the responsibility.
Well, today, the Lord gave me some divine inspiration. The grandmother has now been christened the Queen Mother of the Kitchen. As Queen Mother she still has power and authority over her domain, but the practical tasks of everyday ruling have passed on to the next generation. When time, space and ability permit, she takes her place at the counter and directs or helps as necessary. Now, instead of being a passive, dethroned monarch, she is able to gracefully step down from the responsibility. It may sound silly to you, but I feel that it will help to even out the tension that has occasionally arisen from her displacement.
God is so gracious! I knew that he would open up a way to make this easier, I just didn't know it would come this way.