Much is written about parenting - its joys and tribulations -

Kate Garraway, with the candor of one who has lived through many seasons, once declared: “Much is written about parenting – its joys and tribulations – and then about the transition into hot flushes, night sweats and (if we’re lucky) a new life as a grandmother.” These words, though lightly spoken, carry the weight of a whole journey—the path of womanhood, from the giving of life, to the passing of years, to the renewal of life through children’s children. In them lies a recognition that life is not a single stage, but a sacred passage of transformations, each with its own burdens, its own beauty, and its own blessings.

The origin of this saying comes from Garraway’s reflections on the cycles of family and age. She acknowledges that volumes are written on parenting, that endless voices speak of sleepless nights, tender first steps, and the aching trials of raising children. Yet she also points to the silence surrounding what follows—the midlife transition, marked by the body’s trials, and the bittersweet shift into becoming an elder. Her words shine a light on that often-hidden passage, naming it not only as a time of loss or difficulty, but also as a door into a new and noble role: that of grandmother, the keeper of memory, the giver of wisdom.

History is rich with such figures. In ancient Greece, the matriarch was revered as the hearth’s guardian, a figure who no longer labored in childbirth but in counsel. In African traditions, the grandmother is the storyteller, carrying the history of the tribe and weaving it into the minds of the young. In medieval Europe, the elder mother often raised the grandchildren while younger women worked the fields. Thus, Garraway’s vision is not only personal but universal: the transition from mother to grandmother has always been one of both endurance and exaltation, a new life emerging after the fires of midlife trials.

Her words also touch the paradox of time. The body grows frailer—hot flushes and night sweats remind us of the limits of flesh—yet the spirit grows stronger. The woman who once was consumed with raising her children now finds herself transformed into a guide for the next generation. What seemed at first a decline becomes, in truth, an ascension. It is not the end of relevance, but a rebirth of purpose. Garraway calls this “lucky,” but in truth it is more than luck—it is the fruit of perseverance, of surviving the storms of age to find the calm of legacy.

And yet, she does not hide the struggle. She names the tribulations as well as the joys, for to move through life’s passages is never easy. The body resists, the spirit mourns the swiftness of time, and the heart aches at the loss of youth. But within the hardship lies renewal. Just as the pangs of labor bring forth a child, so too the pangs of age bring forth a new identity. From the sweat and heat of transition comes the cool wisdom of elderhood. What begins as loss becomes, if embraced, a gift.

The lesson is clear: we must embrace each season of life not with fear, but with reverence. Parenting teaches us love through labor; midlife teaches us endurance through trial; grandparenthood teaches us joy through remembrance. Each stage flows into the next, not as a fall from greatness, but as a passage into a new kind of greatness. Do not cling too tightly to the past, nor fear the changes of the body, for in each transition lies the possibility of transformation.

Therefore, let Kate Garraway’s words be remembered: “Much is written about parenting… and then about the transition… and (if we’re lucky) a new life as a grandmother.” These are not merely stages, but sacred steps in the ladder of life. Honor them. Write of them. Share them. For in doing so, we teach the next generation that aging is not decline but deepening, not loss but renewal. And in this way, the wisdom of the elder will never fade, but will shine on, like the warm light of a grandmother’s fire.