Sometimes the obvious is just not that obvious to me, as I have realized over the last few days. My grandsons have their birthdays two days apart at the end of April, so I always spend time thinking about them this time of year, reviewing the past year and everything that we have done together and experienced. And I also spend time thinking about my role in their lives, and what I bring to the table as a grandmother.
But this year, we laid to rest my aunt at age 100, as the boys turned seven and nine, and the juxtaposition of those two events has made me understand this relationship in a whole new way.
In my own defense, I never had grandparents, so I didn't have that knowledge base to draw on, which has probably slowed my progress. But anyway, I have always thought about the boys in terms of my responsibility to them, what they mean to me, how they are growing up too quickly and are gifted to us as children for such a short time. All the usual, I am sure.
This year, my thoughts suddenly took a turn. Suddenly I realized my relationship with them is entirely independent of their mother's relationship with me. Because they always came with their parents attached, it was easy to overlook that we have our own special connection with each other, so this was a revelation to me.
It probably shouldn't have been, I'll admit. I have seen that actually play out in front of my face with my own mother and her five grandchildren, especially as they became adults. They call her, they facetime with her, they seek her out, and none of it has anything to do with their parents or our relationship with either them or their grandmother.
But that cosmic connection I felt with my oldest grandson the moment I first held him, repeated with the second one, is not just the wild thoughts of a besotted grandparent in the depths of birthday emotions. I have watched my mother soothe my children in ways I never was able to, even as infants. I have seen them watch over her and care for her in ways they do not interact with me. I see my nieces and nephew send pictures and make phone calls and seek out facetime opportunities with her, because they want her to know their children and they crave her attention and approval, and their father has nothing at all to do with it.
It has opened up a whole new outlook for me, I guess. All the cliches are true. I do love to be able to love on my baby's baby, because it is a chance to love her all over again. I totally enjoy being able to read the familiar stories, smell the crayons and the playdoh, see the excitement at the zoo, explore and experience and examine the world together all over again. It is fun to say yes, when I might have said no to my own kids, because the responsibility is different.
But I suddenly realized that my role is important to them in a whole different way than I had been envisioning. I need to be another separate safe space for them to be who they are, to express their thoughts and fears and know they are fully and completely loved exactly as they are. My expectations need to be pushed aside in favor of their realities, but somehow, with the passage of time and my own maturation, it is easier this time around.
I also need to feed their flames, be the keeper of their family stories, show them their own history, give them a sense of their place in time, and open their minds to my own life experiences, which are very different than theirs. They need to learn from me about how I felt as a little girl, growing up on a farm in rural Minnesota, because I am the only one who can tell them. I will need to remind them of their time spent with a great-grandmother they may or may not remember as they grow up. Just as I love learning who they are as they grow into adulthood, they will enjoy learning who I am. There are so many things that only I can share with them, model for them, teach them. It is an important responsibility, and I look forward to sharing those stories with them.
Like every grandparent I know, I am proud of my little grandsons. I love them with a pureness that is entirely for them, without the weight of the responsibility of parenting. I savor the time I spend with them, I look forward to the exciting experiences we have together, and I continue to create the building blocks of a relationship that I, and I hope they, will treasure for a lifetime.
Happy birthday to my littles. You have a piece of my heart no one else will ever have, and I love you with my entire being. I wish you the best year yet, filled with exciting adventures and new experiences, and I hope to share some of them with you!
Love, Grandmama
