Mamaws know best

I recently had an experience that highlighted the importance of grandparents in our lives. More specifically, grandmothers but if you are a Cajun like me you call them “mamaws.” Mamaws may very well have the faith and prayer life to soften this hardened world. Their main method is the rosary. 
I have been reflecting on the significance my mamaw had on my life and I felt called to give glory to God for it in this column. I have vivid memories of praying the rosary with both of my grandmothers. On my dad’s side my mamaw was a “proper lady.” You would not catch me chewing with my mouth open or elbows on the table EVER. She was beautiful. She was tiny with a white crown of hair. 
I’m pretty sure the Cajun Waltz has never been in a ballroom but I assure you she made it look like it should be. Her rosary matched her character. It was always very formal, scriptural and on knees. 
She was educated and a scholar of the word. Her reverence to the rosary forced me to focus on the words and mysteries. She was able to pray it in a way that formed in me an adoration to the Blessed Mother. This mamaw molded in me the images of the Blessed Mother at the assumption and the coronation. The profound respect she had for the mother of God allowed me to view her in the light of her queenship. I’m so grateful for her intentional example. 
It’s the rosary I relate to in the adoration chapel. My other mamaw was most easily described as humble. She was forced to leave school prematurely to contribute to the family. Her approach to the rosary was relational. The rosary I remember praying with her was more integrated into day to day activities. If we were riding in her orange and white Impala we were listening to the rosary on cassette. 
She had a tight blue-black perm and smoked Carlton Red 120 cigarettes. She would flick that thing around like it was some kind of incense. The tape was in English but she would often slip into Cajun French, and I would watch her pray in awe that she loved Our Lady in two languages.
 After Third Mystery she would say, “Cher, flip to side B” while that long stick hung off her lip. This way of praying allowed me to love praying throughout the day. This mamaw taught me the Mary of the Nativity and in the finding of Jesus in the temple. The real life Momma Mary. The uncomfortable Mary and the mother that was anxious to find her lost child.
I now have the luxury of Bluetooth in the car and casting on the TV at home and this allows for using the weapon (rosary) while I move through the day. I’m blessed by the education and witness of both rosary devotions. 
My mom, who is now a “Monie” because mamaw is too “mamaw,”  uses an app to lead her. My 10-year-old nephew, who has the honor of being very near her, has most genuinely and sweetly picked up the rosary app habit and can’t fall asleep unless it’s playing near his beautiful head. 
I don’t know if you are reading this as a grandparent or you are reminiscing about your own grandparents but I want to encourage you to show your grandbabies the power of the beads or lift up gratitude to those gone now that roped us in a long time ago. If y’all kids are anything like mine and my nieces and nephews there isn’t much they won’t do if their grandparents ask. 
All the things my parents and in-laws do are right and everything is sweet if you ask my kids. I implore you because I know I can use the help raising our kids in the faith and although my husband and I are very deliberate it takes everyone to share the kingdom. We aren’t as wise as those blessed in age ahead of us. Please help us plant the seeds. Please help us shine Christ’s light on the bebes. Merci, Cher. 

Eldridge is a Catholic mom living in the Diocese of Baton Rouge facing the same challenges all families face.