My little granddaughter asked, “Gram, were there dinosaurs around when you were a little girl?  What did they look like?”

And suddenly, I felt like one. From her eyes I must appear to be a million years old.

I was born in the 50s and as far as I can remember I don’t think there weren’t any dinosaurs around. 

I do remember being in love with Elvis and having a black and white TV with rabbit ears.  I remember the 60s and the unrest that the drug culture brought, Woodstock and the Beatles.  I remember being anxious and wishing to be 21 so I could party and it seemed to take forever. 

Then suddenly, the months and years seem to be flying by.

The 702 found me married with kids and trying to figure out what most parents wonder, “How do I do this?” 

Somehow, with God’s help, we made it and I survived and got them in church, through school and eventually into the job force. Of course, I’m partial, but I have great kids even if my granddaughter thinks I grew up with dinosaurs.

I look around and there is a whole world out there I don’t recognize. I wonder what happened to kids playing in the neighborhood and riding our bikes until dark and when the porch lights came on, we all headed home. 

I remember walking to the bus stop and any misbehavior was handled at school and again when we got home.

I remember not understanding math in junior high and having a senior student as a tutor and I was pretty sure I was going to marry him and live happily ever after.  I also remember our football team headed to state playoffs and the whole town closed up shop to go.

I remember hauling 4-H show calves to the Dallas State Fair and standing in awe at the magnitude of it all.  I remember crying when we left to go home wondering if they would feed and take care of my calf.

I remember standing at the back of the church with my dad waiting for the bridal march and him telling me it wasn’t too late to change my mind and I remember being married for some 40-plus years and wondering how we made it.

I remember the flying trips to the hospital some 90 miles away when my kids were born. I remember crying as they laid them both in my arms and I begged God to walk me through this, because I didn’t know about babies and raising kids.
I look around and I pray for soldiers, police officers and teachers and preachers and our churches and I wonder how it will all work out. Suddenly, I’m on guard when I travel alone and stop for fuel or a snack. I pray every day that each parent is spending quality time with their kids because if they don’t someone else will and it may not be something you would have them know or participate in. 

I wonder what the world will be like when my granddaughter turns 21 and although I truly want to live forever, I’m not sure I’m tough enough to handle what may be coming down the pike. In all honesty, it scares me.

I do know one thing for certain: God has it all under control. He knows the outcome, the end result and He has the timing down pat. We don’t have to worry, we don’t have to stress, we just have to get up, thankful for each day and know that this part of the journey is intact, and the promise is for real. 

I’m not afraid. How could anyone raised with dinosaur’s be afraid?  I’m only a visitor passing through headed home.  And this journey? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Melinda Clements is an E-T community columnist. She can be reached at