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I saw a picture once of a grandmother and a little girl running toward each other, arms wide. The caption said, "Where would I be without you?"
I showed it to my mother one day while visiting her with my children, her grandchildren.
I asked her, "Which one of them is saying this? I think it's the child, grateful for her granny." My mom laughed and said, "I thought it was the old lady."
The appreciation and gratitude from each party is in itself an act of giving. Both feel they are on the receiving end. The perfect relationship.
My children were fortunate to have had five grandparents in their lives, all of whom lived close by.
One of their grandmothers was only with us long enough to see them as infants and toddlers, but her love and support will never be forgotten.
We lived 20 minutes away from one grandfather who was in the next town, and even closer to two others — one a biological grampa, and the other a step-grandad who they embraced as their own as well.
Their step-grandad and their other granny lived only five minutes away, and these wonderful souls welcomed visits as often as we could come over. We were in each others' houses several times every week.
In this day and age when so many grandparents and grandchildren must have a long-distance relationship or perhaps none at all, this was riches for the whole family.
Expressing love for their grandparents was woven into everyday life for our children, and was systematically celebrated on special occasions. Gifts from little ones touched older hearts.
For one Father's Day, our youngest daughter built a birdhouse which she gave to her step-grandad. He had a garden, much bigger than any we've ever had. The kids would pick tomatoes and peppers in the rubber boots that were kept just for them in their grandparents' kitchen closet.
For Christmas, our little ones gave another grampa a Santa coffee cup, and I made shortbread cookies. When he was planting his orchard, we gave him gardening supplies and wind chimes.
Did Granny need some help around the house? Little ones would fetch things for her, stand on a chair to dry dishes, take clothing from her hands as they come off the clothesline, and put them in the basket. Chubby fists patted the dirt around a freshly planted flower.
And Mom? (That would be me.) I was in there too, of course, often behind the scenes. Their grandmother was, after all, my special lady first, before any of these kids were even thought of.
The children are grown — the baby turned 25 this year. Three of our children are still in the area and two live in other parts of the country. Both grandmothers are gone now, and so is one of their grandfathers. But though the scenarios have changed over the years, we continue to insist on relationship, even when it is not expected.
Long-distance phone calls, letters and photos in the mail, from granddaughters to grandfathers, bridge the geographical gap, as does the occasional trip home. Our daughter who lives in the area is counting on her upcoming maternity leave to give her time and opportunity for visits.
My youngest son goes with me and his grandfather — my dad — on candy runs from time to time. It's easier for me to do the driving these days and Dad rides shotgun.
We hit the local Dollar store, and the guys take their time focused with gravity on the serious job of choosing their candy. We can count on Grampa being done first. He always picks Scotch mints and licorice allsorts. His grandson is more of an adventurer, inspecting the candy row scrupulously.
When they are ready, we take off to the car, go back to Grampa's, and the boys chow down.
My oldest son goes to visit his grandfather regularly. They share a sense of humor, and recently learned that they both do some of the same things left-handed. Didn't know that before.
But as it turns out the grandson has a skill the grandfather does not. Grampa always asks him to tune his radio station in more clearly for him, and his grandson has always been able to do so. Grampa thinks it is a miracle.
And me? I think the whole thing is a miracle.
Visit Jody's website at http://www.ncubator.ca and http://ncubator.ca/blogger
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