Thursday, October 23, 2008

The evolution of a "Grandma"


I was born in 1946; the first year of the "baby boomers". All of you "boomers" out there know what a visit to the grandparents was like - sit on the sofa and stare at the African Violets.

We didn't visit our grandparents very often. My father was the black sheep on both sides. I was terrified of my maternal grandmother. I found out, years later from my cousins, she was terrifying to all. My paternal grandmother was a doll. We didn't see her much; but I remember she was the only one who ever touched me. She would pat my check and say how good it was to see me. It was obvious, of course, she couldn't remember my name; but I still cherish her loving, warm hands on my face and the glow surrounding her. I think we would have been great friends.
Mom wasn't the most loving mother when I was growing up. She had 4 kids in 5 1/2 years - no running water - no help - a demanding husband. Of course now, I understand how difficult motherhood must have been for her, so she has since been excused. That being said; I couldn't love her more as a grandmother. I had to take my daughter to daycare when I worked because Mom also worked. But if I ever needed her in a pinch (sickness, overnighter), she was there. She adored my little Stefanie. It brings tears to my eyes when I think back to the memories of Mom and Stef together. Grandma Ruby played and played with Stef; something unheard of a generation before.

Fast forward to Stef's daughter, Alex, and Grandma Sandy. Today, Alex and I go in the dressing room together to try on clothes; "oohing & ahing" over our selections. We hug each other (Grandson, Cole, too) all the time; say "Love you" and laugh over the same silly jokes. (She even asked me to accompany her to the Jonas Brothers' concert, sensing her Dad might not enjoy it as much.)

Do the different generations love their grandchildren any more or any less? I don't think so. We just have more freedom to express it.

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