LOVE! Two lines hit me, each differently. "Along with my relief came gratitude that I could tell my son what my mother had never told me. “I’m proud of you." I understand this so deeply.
AND "For the record, I’d rather eat a bucketful of Legos than give in to a tantrum in the toy department." I see this as something you and I have in common.
I never parented, but I had my share of charges in my late teens and early twenties when I was an au pair/nanny. No patience for meltdowns. What a lovely essay, Rona. Thank you. xo
Loved this. We are all imperfect grammies. My grandkids have helped me make peace with aging:
I try to think of my aging body the way my grandchildren do. I am soft, not flabby. They play with my jiggly parts. They stop and then release the blood that flows across my veiny hands like small rivers. They lay their heads on my welcoming tummy and throw their arms around my dimpled thighs. They draw invisible lines from one brown spot to another on my face. Grandkids put a twinkle in our wrinkles, and wrinkles seem to be the only sign of aging that doesn’t hurt.
When we swim, they marvel at how well I float. I am buoyant! I am a pillow, a bouncy castle, a creampuff, a safe place to land.
Annie, I love the way you've put this. You make me want to be a pillow, a bouncy castle, a cream puff and a safe place to land. Buff and beautiful? Ha.
Every week, I say to myself, now don't get caught up in whatever Rona writes, you can miss a week now and then. And then you completely seduce me. I was a mother a little later than you, but still too early. My great comfort was to realise, especially once I had a second child who was completely different from the first in almost every respect, that they come out of the womb who they are and you just have to not mess them up too much. Sounds like it all worked out in your family as it did in mine. I share your views about photos - even wrote a piece about it years ago.
I related to so much of this! I married at sixteen and became pregnant six months later. My eldest was born when I was seventeen, and by the time he was 10 months old I was single again, working as a secretary in a termite company, and living in my own "bachelor" apartment. I still remember carrying him down the stairs and slipping on the rain soaked step four up from the concrete pavement below, falling on my knees in order to project him. I didn't feel like a good mother, so that moment of protecting him remains and felt better than knees that hurt so badly that I could hardly press the brake pedal as I drove to work. I look back on much of his childhood and wonder how he became the man he is now. He will be 56-years-old next month and he is one of my best friends. I became a grandmother when I was 37. I would only keep my grandson overnight if my daughter was there to help me. My grandson is now turning 35 and calls me around three times a week. Forgiving ourselves for our complicated feelings is the work of a lifetime. But we love and are loved.
Well, Majik, I have only two grandchildren myself. Serves me right for stopping at one child, conceived in a reckless moment while his father and I were expected for dinner with friends of my parents. I'm lucky to have any grandkids at all. What a terribly sad thing you heard from your grandson all those years ago. And how blessed you all are in one another.
Thank you, Rona. I took my long story down because I was concerned that it was too intimate, especially the accounts of our children's conceptions, even though that was my favorite part to recall and describe. But I'm glad that you saw and read it before I deleted it. I saved it on my computer, but I'll just leave it there. I wasn't home when our then-six-year-old grandson came to our house and told his "Grandma" what we already knew about his father leaving his mother, our only daughter, but the memory of Karen telling me about what he had said to her breaks my heart still just imagining the scene these ten years later. But we ARE blessed to all have one another, and our ex-son-in-law is still in all our lives, complimenting and complicating and sometimes also aggravating things . . . but we learn forgiveness in this way, and we are grateful that our grandson and granddaughter have their father as well as their mother, and also now a step-mother and a kid half-brother too who also thinks of Karen as one of his grandmothers!
Ah hell, Rona, if you can reference the reckless conception of your only child which borders on the comical, I guess I can be brave enough to re-copy my own account of whence our two children originated. "C'est la vie," say the French, huh!
When we married, she was 25 and I was 23. We were going to go to seminary after I graduated college that I'd started at 18, got busted for pot on campus, dropped out of school for two years, found Jesus in a far country like the Prodigal Son that I was, returned home, found the love of my life in her, and began our young lives together . . . God and me and Karen, "the wife of my youth." One night after lovemaking two years after we'd been married, I got up from our bed to wash up and returned to find my bride in a kind of yoga pose with her pelvis tilted up high in the air and knew right then that she wasn't planning to wait until I'd finished my college and then seminary for us to have a child. Ten months later, our son arrived, three weeks after his due date, healthy and blue eyed like his parents, looking more like a three-week-old infant than a newborn baby. I distinctly remembered the night he was conceived. Similarly, our daughter was conceived three years later after I'd graduated from college, and we had delayed our plans for me to go to seminary because we'd spent our scant savings on necessary baby equipment and furniture for our firstborn. We both know the Sunday afternoon when our daughter was conceived, a quiet and peaceful afternoon after church when our toddler son was napping in his bedroom of our two-bedroom apartment while my bride and I made love in our bedroom and also made our second child who would be born nine months later. Don't ask how we knew. We just did know . . . both times. After that, we never did go to seminary. We moved in with my parents who had an "empty nest" in a four-bedroom house after my kid sister had finally moved out and my Dad had asked me if I wanted to move in with him and my Mom so that I could go to law school and neither of us had asked our wives if either of them thought this was a good idea. Neither one of them did, as it turned out, but neither one of them ever voiced this until years later. I finished my first year of law school and then got a part-time law clerking job that enabled our small family of four to move into another two-bedroom apartment while I finished law school, with our children sharing a bedroom and us sharing the other one. Sometime during law school, I got a vasectomy, which my wife and I both thought was a rational thing to do, but we would later regret it, me immediately and her years later when she pined for at least one more child. Our daughter grew up, moved out, married young, and worked with her husband at minimum wage jobs, and had a son and later a daughter five years after our grandson was born. Our grandson gave my bride her third child to love and help raise and later our granddaughter made a fourth. Our grandchildren have been sheer joy for both of us, especially for my bride who has borne the lioness share of parenting responsibilities, especially after our son-in-law left our daughter six months after our granddaughter was born and our then-six-year-old grandson brought the news to our house with a preface, "Grandma, I have something really sad to tell you." Our grandson and granddaughter are 17 and 12 now, respectively, and we love them like they are our own children, which really they are. Our son never married or had children. So, in all likelihood these two will be the only grandchildren that we will ever know. Life never turned out the way we once had planned, but it turned out the way it did . . . more wonderful and blessed by God than any that I deserved.
I am a mom of 4 boys ages 18 months - 11 and I'm always looking around, seeing how we can hold caregiving and loving with mischief and a wink. I love being a mother, although it's weighted with so much expectation, exhaustion and guilt. I really look forward to being an elder, especially with role models like you.
I guess I’m a better role model as an elder than I could possibly have been as a frazzled young mother. Four boys! I thought I had my hands full with one.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever be a grandma which saddens me a great deal. I’ve written off the 36 year old son and his partner of 9 years. I’ve still some hope for the 30 year old son and his wife. But the reality is, our world is a mess and they have doubts about bringing a little life into it.
For 5 years one of my younger son’s best friends lived just around the corner from me and I adopted his 3 young children to be my grandchildren. It was a pleasure. Sadly they moved to Florida last summer so I won’t be seeing them too much anymore. But we maintain our friendship via Facebook.
For many years now I have volunteered in two kindergarten classrooms each week. My friends are the teachers. I love spending time with the 5 and 6 year olds.
As long as I can have young people on my life, I’ll be okay 🥰
You're not alone, Amy. Between infertility and changing perceptions about the importance of children, many who'd love grandkids won't have them. With only one child, I feel fortunate to have any grandkids at all. But there are lots of ways to bond with young people. Kids can learn a lot from a wise grownup friend who's not related. I should know--I had a few such friends.
Hi Amy, there are so many ways we impact young lives. Although I am a grandmother, I also relish my role as elderly lady next door to a young family with three active children who routinely hit, bat and throw balls of all variety over a tall hedge between our backyards. Sometimes I throw them back, but it is a high hedge! I keep a pot outside my gate and keep it full with returns. I love hearing them checking it. In summer I leave other items like bubble wands--and remind myself of a less shy Boo Radley.
When I was six, I was amazed at my grandmother’s skin texture. “Grandma, you have flabby skin!” I announced in wonder. She thought that was hilarious and repeated it to others. Not long after, I made the same observation to my other grandmother, “Nana.” She was furious and told me never to talk like that to her again. Live and learn!
I’m not yet a grandparent but your story triggered a “cherished” memory. When my husband and I toured our local school in search of the right placement for our soon to be kindergartner, I exclaimed, “Oh look, what a great program that encourages high schoolers to read to the elementary students!” A few young women sat at tables with young children, leading them through reading exercises outside the classroom in the commons area. The principal patted me gently on the arm and corrected me. “No. Those are young mothers who are volunteering their time.” My husband stifled a laugh as I blushed from embarrassment. He couldn’t wait to tease me that I was an “old mother.” I was 37 when we toured that school. He was 41!
Isn’t it funny how young people look as you get older? And how early the shift in perception starts? I once asked a woman what grade she was in. She was well into her 20s and a teacher.
I so enjoyed reading this. Reliving my own son’s (now 23) childhood and my struggles with juggling motherhood and work. I’m a great-aunt many times over but not (yet?) a grandmother. Ah, these roles and expectations.
Rona, you're an essential part of my Sunday, even today, when I started doing the 2024 tax returns I'm responsible for. I don't have and never wanted children, and to be honest, have been confused to watch people change completely after a birth.
But the grandma thing, well, I was amazingly lucky there as my mom was adopted by an absolutely wonderful couple and I got the best Nan and Pop as a result. My grandfather retired the same September as I started school, and I went for an after school walk with him almost every day. My Nan loved me so much that when I was a newborn and my dad was working away, she didn't want him to come home for the weekend. When she died, my first thought is there's no longer a reason to go home. Pop instilled my love of books, and Nan taught me the craft skills I'm so lucky to have. And those tax returns started with Pop's when his vision started to fade and I was 14 and able to read the tiny print. Thinking about them almost always brings me to tears, like now. They were a wonderful couple, incredibly generous and loving.
Jo, I'm so honored and delighted to be "essential" Sunday reading. Not everyone needs or wants to have children, and some who do have them are not cut out for the role. But everyone needs wise grownups who are crazy about them. You were blessed in Nan and Pop.
Loved this,Rona. You look like a kid with baby Ben. I had just turned 22 when I had my first. I was overwhelmed. Long breech delivery. We didn’t even have a washing machine. Bathroom drains had plugs of ice one morning.
My mother came for a week and told me to stop doing the “earth mother” bit and get Sarah on formula so I could get some sleep. I did and got that precious sleep but never forgave my mother.
My first two grandchildren arrived three weeks apart in 2007, less than a year after I finished breast cancer chemo and radiation. When I got the diagnosis, I grieved for the grandchildren I would never have. We now have five.
Huddy lived close enough for me to visit regularly and he brought me such joy and hope for my survival that I’m tearing up writing this.
That doll in the pic with your mom is terrifying.😂
I not only looked like a kid, I felt like one, way out of my depth. Five grandchildren! What a bounty. And that doll? A souvenir of Mexico, where my mother went every winter and shopped for handicrafts to add to her collection.
Asa rookie grandparent––our daughter's two-year old and six-month old––I loved reading this. I have many funny stories to tell them when they get older. Thanks Rona for this essay.
This is great, Rona!!! I'm the "fairy grandmother," who shows up with some sparkle, then disappears until next time*. (Also, because I'm a realist, I refer to them collectively as "the pallbearers.")
*I drive the local guy to school one day a week, which guarantees us some regular time together. The others live north of the 48th parallel, which is why FaceTime. And occasional visits.
LOVE! Two lines hit me, each differently. "Along with my relief came gratitude that I could tell my son what my mother had never told me. “I’m proud of you." I understand this so deeply.
AND "For the record, I’d rather eat a bucketful of Legos than give in to a tantrum in the toy department." I see this as something you and I have in common.
I never parented, but I had my share of charges in my late teens and early twenties when I was an au pair/nanny. No patience for meltdowns. What a lovely essay, Rona. Thank you. xo
And thank YOU, Nan. One more thing we have in common. Always a pleasure to meet you here.
Loved this. We are all imperfect grammies. My grandkids have helped me make peace with aging:
I try to think of my aging body the way my grandchildren do. I am soft, not flabby. They play with my jiggly parts. They stop and then release the blood that flows across my veiny hands like small rivers. They lay their heads on my welcoming tummy and throw their arms around my dimpled thighs. They draw invisible lines from one brown spot to another on my face. Grandkids put a twinkle in our wrinkles, and wrinkles seem to be the only sign of aging that doesn’t hurt.
When we swim, they marvel at how well I float. I am buoyant! I am a pillow, a bouncy castle, a creampuff, a safe place to land.
Annie, I love the way you've put this. You make me want to be a pillow, a bouncy castle, a cream puff and a safe place to land. Buff and beautiful? Ha.
Every week, I say to myself, now don't get caught up in whatever Rona writes, you can miss a week now and then. And then you completely seduce me. I was a mother a little later than you, but still too early. My great comfort was to realise, especially once I had a second child who was completely different from the first in almost every respect, that they come out of the womb who they are and you just have to not mess them up too much. Sounds like it all worked out in your family as it did in mine. I share your views about photos - even wrote a piece about it years ago.
Ann, it’s a delight to be unmissably seductive. Maybe you should revisit that essay on photos. I quite often return to old pieces woth fresh eyrs.
The piece on photos of grandchildren is in my book (The Granny who Stands on her Head) along with a lot of other thoughts about growing older.
I related to so much of this! I married at sixteen and became pregnant six months later. My eldest was born when I was seventeen, and by the time he was 10 months old I was single again, working as a secretary in a termite company, and living in my own "bachelor" apartment. I still remember carrying him down the stairs and slipping on the rain soaked step four up from the concrete pavement below, falling on my knees in order to project him. I didn't feel like a good mother, so that moment of protecting him remains and felt better than knees that hurt so badly that I could hardly press the brake pedal as I drove to work. I look back on much of his childhood and wonder how he became the man he is now. He will be 56-years-old next month and he is one of my best friends. I became a grandmother when I was 37. I would only keep my grandson overnight if my daughter was there to help me. My grandson is now turning 35 and calls me around three times a week. Forgiving ourselves for our complicated feelings is the work of a lifetime. But we love and are loved.
Well, Majik, I have only two grandchildren myself. Serves me right for stopping at one child, conceived in a reckless moment while his father and I were expected for dinner with friends of my parents. I'm lucky to have any grandkids at all. What a terribly sad thing you heard from your grandson all those years ago. And how blessed you all are in one another.
Thank you, Rona. I took my long story down because I was concerned that it was too intimate, especially the accounts of our children's conceptions, even though that was my favorite part to recall and describe. But I'm glad that you saw and read it before I deleted it. I saved it on my computer, but I'll just leave it there. I wasn't home when our then-six-year-old grandson came to our house and told his "Grandma" what we already knew about his father leaving his mother, our only daughter, but the memory of Karen telling me about what he had said to her breaks my heart still just imagining the scene these ten years later. But we ARE blessed to all have one another, and our ex-son-in-law is still in all our lives, complimenting and complicating and sometimes also aggravating things . . . but we learn forgiveness in this way, and we are grateful that our grandson and granddaughter have their father as well as their mother, and also now a step-mother and a kid half-brother too who also thinks of Karen as one of his grandmothers!
Ah hell, Rona, if you can reference the reckless conception of your only child which borders on the comical, I guess I can be brave enough to re-copy my own account of whence our two children originated. "C'est la vie," say the French, huh!
When we married, she was 25 and I was 23. We were going to go to seminary after I graduated college that I'd started at 18, got busted for pot on campus, dropped out of school for two years, found Jesus in a far country like the Prodigal Son that I was, returned home, found the love of my life in her, and began our young lives together . . . God and me and Karen, "the wife of my youth." One night after lovemaking two years after we'd been married, I got up from our bed to wash up and returned to find my bride in a kind of yoga pose with her pelvis tilted up high in the air and knew right then that she wasn't planning to wait until I'd finished my college and then seminary for us to have a child. Ten months later, our son arrived, three weeks after his due date, healthy and blue eyed like his parents, looking more like a three-week-old infant than a newborn baby. I distinctly remembered the night he was conceived. Similarly, our daughter was conceived three years later after I'd graduated from college, and we had delayed our plans for me to go to seminary because we'd spent our scant savings on necessary baby equipment and furniture for our firstborn. We both know the Sunday afternoon when our daughter was conceived, a quiet and peaceful afternoon after church when our toddler son was napping in his bedroom of our two-bedroom apartment while my bride and I made love in our bedroom and also made our second child who would be born nine months later. Don't ask how we knew. We just did know . . . both times. After that, we never did go to seminary. We moved in with my parents who had an "empty nest" in a four-bedroom house after my kid sister had finally moved out and my Dad had asked me if I wanted to move in with him and my Mom so that I could go to law school and neither of us had asked our wives if either of them thought this was a good idea. Neither one of them did, as it turned out, but neither one of them ever voiced this until years later. I finished my first year of law school and then got a part-time law clerking job that enabled our small family of four to move into another two-bedroom apartment while I finished law school, with our children sharing a bedroom and us sharing the other one. Sometime during law school, I got a vasectomy, which my wife and I both thought was a rational thing to do, but we would later regret it, me immediately and her years later when she pined for at least one more child. Our daughter grew up, moved out, married young, and worked with her husband at minimum wage jobs, and had a son and later a daughter five years after our grandson was born. Our grandson gave my bride her third child to love and help raise and later our granddaughter made a fourth. Our grandchildren have been sheer joy for both of us, especially for my bride who has borne the lioness share of parenting responsibilities, especially after our son-in-law left our daughter six months after our granddaughter was born and our then-six-year-old grandson brought the news to our house with a preface, "Grandma, I have something really sad to tell you." Our grandson and granddaughter are 17 and 12 now, respectively, and we love them like they are our own children, which really they are. Our son never married or had children. So, in all likelihood these two will be the only grandchildren that we will ever know. Life never turned out the way we once had planned, but it turned out the way it did . . . more wonderful and blessed by God than any that I deserved.
And that's life, huh?
Yes, the conception was comical. Parents at 22, not so much.
I am a mom of 4 boys ages 18 months - 11 and I'm always looking around, seeing how we can hold caregiving and loving with mischief and a wink. I love being a mother, although it's weighted with so much expectation, exhaustion and guilt. I really look forward to being an elder, especially with role models like you.
I guess I’m a better role model as an elder than I could possibly have been as a frazzled young mother. Four boys! I thought I had my hands full with one.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever be a grandma which saddens me a great deal. I’ve written off the 36 year old son and his partner of 9 years. I’ve still some hope for the 30 year old son and his wife. But the reality is, our world is a mess and they have doubts about bringing a little life into it.
For 5 years one of my younger son’s best friends lived just around the corner from me and I adopted his 3 young children to be my grandchildren. It was a pleasure. Sadly they moved to Florida last summer so I won’t be seeing them too much anymore. But we maintain our friendship via Facebook.
For many years now I have volunteered in two kindergarten classrooms each week. My friends are the teachers. I love spending time with the 5 and 6 year olds.
As long as I can have young people on my life, I’ll be okay 🥰
You're not alone, Amy. Between infertility and changing perceptions about the importance of children, many who'd love grandkids won't have them. With only one child, I feel fortunate to have any grandkids at all. But there are lots of ways to bond with young people. Kids can learn a lot from a wise grownup friend who's not related. I should know--I had a few such friends.
Hi Amy, there are so many ways we impact young lives. Although I am a grandmother, I also relish my role as elderly lady next door to a young family with three active children who routinely hit, bat and throw balls of all variety over a tall hedge between our backyards. Sometimes I throw them back, but it is a high hedge! I keep a pot outside my gate and keep it full with returns. I love hearing them checking it. In summer I leave other items like bubble wands--and remind myself of a less shy Boo Radley.
What a great neighbor you are, Leslie. Not that I'm surprised.
It’s nice to be involved in young people’s lives, isn’t it? I love their sense of wonder.
When I was six, I was amazed at my grandmother’s skin texture. “Grandma, you have flabby skin!” I announced in wonder. She thought that was hilarious and repeated it to others. Not long after, I made the same observation to my other grandmother, “Nana.” She was furious and told me never to talk like that to her again. Live and learn!
Total opposites. One sounds much more lovable than the other but between them, they taught you how very different people are.
You always tell the story so elegantly!
Thank you, Bob. I strive for elegance and heart.
I’m not yet a grandparent but your story triggered a “cherished” memory. When my husband and I toured our local school in search of the right placement for our soon to be kindergartner, I exclaimed, “Oh look, what a great program that encourages high schoolers to read to the elementary students!” A few young women sat at tables with young children, leading them through reading exercises outside the classroom in the commons area. The principal patted me gently on the arm and corrected me. “No. Those are young mothers who are volunteering their time.” My husband stifled a laugh as I blushed from embarrassment. He couldn’t wait to tease me that I was an “old mother.” I was 37 when we toured that school. He was 41!
Isn’t it funny how young people look as you get older? And how early the shift in perception starts? I once asked a woman what grade she was in. She was well into her 20s and a teacher.
Oops! Thanks for the kindred chuckle.
I so enjoyed reading this. Reliving my own son’s (now 23) childhood and my struggles with juggling motherhood and work. I’m a great-aunt many times over but not (yet?) a grandmother. Ah, these roles and expectations.
By the time it happens, you’ll have lots of role models. Being the first in your circle is a bit unsettling.
.
Rona, you're an essential part of my Sunday, even today, when I started doing the 2024 tax returns I'm responsible for. I don't have and never wanted children, and to be honest, have been confused to watch people change completely after a birth.
But the grandma thing, well, I was amazingly lucky there as my mom was adopted by an absolutely wonderful couple and I got the best Nan and Pop as a result. My grandfather retired the same September as I started school, and I went for an after school walk with him almost every day. My Nan loved me so much that when I was a newborn and my dad was working away, she didn't want him to come home for the weekend. When she died, my first thought is there's no longer a reason to go home. Pop instilled my love of books, and Nan taught me the craft skills I'm so lucky to have. And those tax returns started with Pop's when his vision started to fade and I was 14 and able to read the tiny print. Thinking about them almost always brings me to tears, like now. They were a wonderful couple, incredibly generous and loving.
Jo, I'm so honored and delighted to be "essential" Sunday reading. Not everyone needs or wants to have children, and some who do have them are not cut out for the role. But everyone needs wise grownups who are crazy about them. You were blessed in Nan and Pop.
Loved this,Rona. You look like a kid with baby Ben. I had just turned 22 when I had my first. I was overwhelmed. Long breech delivery. We didn’t even have a washing machine. Bathroom drains had plugs of ice one morning.
My mother came for a week and told me to stop doing the “earth mother” bit and get Sarah on formula so I could get some sleep. I did and got that precious sleep but never forgave my mother.
My first two grandchildren arrived three weeks apart in 2007, less than a year after I finished breast cancer chemo and radiation. When I got the diagnosis, I grieved for the grandchildren I would never have. We now have five.
Huddy lived close enough for me to visit regularly and he brought me such joy and hope for my survival that I’m tearing up writing this.
That doll in the pic with your mom is terrifying.😂
I not only looked like a kid, I felt like one, way out of my depth. Five grandchildren! What a bounty. And that doll? A souvenir of Mexico, where my mother went every winter and shopped for handicrafts to add to her collection.
Asa rookie grandparent––our daughter's two-year old and six-month old––I loved reading this. I have many funny stories to tell them when they get older. Thanks Rona for this essay.
They will relish those stories and ask for repeats. You and Debby must be wonderful grandparents, united in joy.
Your story beautifully captures the essence of forging your own path in grandparenting. It’s inspiring how you embrace authenticity over tradition. https://www.goodyearazconcretecontractor.com/concrete-driveways.html
Thank you. So many ways to walk this path.
This is great, Rona!!! I'm the "fairy grandmother," who shows up with some sparkle, then disappears until next time*. (Also, because I'm a realist, I refer to them collectively as "the pallbearers.")
*I drive the local guy to school one day a week, which guarantees us some regular time together. The others live north of the 48th parallel, which is why FaceTime. And occasional visits.
I love your sense of humor. Bet the grndkids do too.