PBJ

I've been feeling a lot like the peanut butter in the middle of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Or, maybe I'm the jelly. Either way, I'm beginning to understand the meaning of the phrase, "sandwich generation." The sandwich generation is so named because we are effectively "sandwiched" between the need to care for our aging parents and our children, who may all require physical, emotional, and financial support.

Everyone who lives a relatively normal life will get to be the bread, as well as the filling, in the sandwich of life. The oldest and youngest generations, the bread, naturally need support from the middle generation, the peanut butter and jelly. Just as bread comes in many varieties--wheat, rye, sourdough, vitamin enriched, flat or raised--we all come with assorted needs and personalities. Each family is unique, with its own mix of people to love and care for.

Think about a pbj sandwich for a minute. The sticky peanut butter is the glue that holds the sandwich together. The jelly provides added sweetness, and is slick enough to make the peanut butter easy to swallow. Without the peanut butter and jelly there is no sandwich--only bread. Without the bread, there is no sandwich either; I guess you could eat the peanut butter and jelly with a spoon, but something would definitely be missing.

I don't mind being the peanut butter right now, but it's easy for me to feel like I'm being pulled in many directions at once. I worry that I live too far away from my parents to be much help. I wish that I could safely drive across the state whenever they need some extra support, but my vision is not as good as it needs to be to drive so far. And when I'm away from home, who will drive Victoria to college and help Levi with his math?

Even my grown children, as independent as they are, need emotional support and real, physical help from time to time. I'm happy to give advice, help with moving and home-improvement projects, babysit grandchildren.

I wonder, am I the creamy, smooth peanut butter, or the nuttier, chunky, variety? Am I shelf-stable, or the organic kind that needs refrigeration? Does it really matter?

It might be more fun to be the jelly, especially if I could choose the flavor and color. Purple, wild grape jelly has a rich, distinctive taste that is different from homemade, pink, plum jelly, but both are delicious. Maybe I would choose to be dark red, strawberry jam instead, filled with luscious chunks of fruit. Either way, the jelly or jam adds sweet flavor and makes the peanut butter easier to swallow, so I guess the jelly is kind of like the good-time parent who always works to make memorable experiences.

I guess that Bill and I get to take turns being the peanut butter and jelly.


I've read that adding grandchildren, or even great-grandchildren, to the mix, makes a whole new kind of sandwich. Members of the "club sandwich" generation are usually in their 50s or 60s and are assisting with aging parents, adult children, and grandchildren. Based upon the working definition of "club sandwich," I suppose I could claim to be part of a club sandwich, which is made up of three or four pieces of bread stacked together with various kinds of meat, cheese, lettuce, and tomato, and held together with toothpicks. The toothpicks might represent the love and determination that hold families together.

Whether I'm part of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or a club sandwich, I guess I'm trying to say that all of my family members really do need each other.

Even more, we all need the divine Chef who puts our sandwich together in the first place.  He chose the perfect ingredients that make up our ever-changing family sandwich, and puts everything together just right.

(I wonder what kind of ingredient our newest grandchild will be?)


But from everlasting to everlasting the LORD's love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children's children. Psalm 103: 17

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