One of the greatest joys of my life is being a grandmother. That’s not to say that being a mother wasn’t joyful. I mean, you have to have been a mother to be a grandmother, right? But, for most of us, being one generation removed from these grand humans gives us perspective we didn’t have when we were in the midst of daily family living.
When I look back at the years of raising my two daughters, I have sweet memories and nostalgia. I also have some guilt and wish I could have a few do-overs. And, yes, that’s just part of maturing and gaining knowledge from experience. Thankfully God has given me a second chance to slow down and appreciate not just the major events of my grandkids’ lives, but also the silly antics, the scattered toys, the competitive games, and the long-winded tales that are a part of each child’s life.
When my older daughter told us she was pregnant with her first child, I immediately started thinking about what I wanted my grands to call me. I suggested Mimi to my daughters. They both vociferously shot that down. Absolutely not – my mother was Grandmama to them, and I was going to be Grandmama to their children. I had no input in this decision.
Truthfully my feelings were not hurt about this. My mother was the epitome of a wonderful, doting grandmother. She was a teacher for over 40 years, and, during her summer breaks, she and my dad always had my daughters come visit them in Tennessee for at least a month. The girls adored them and the feeling was mutual. They loved their time in my parents’ small town and got to know many family members and friends from my childhood.
I also had close relationships with my grandmothers. I grew up in the same small town that my parents did, and both sets of grandparents were just a bike ride away. My grandmothers were very different from each other but equally doted on my brother and me.
My mother passed away from breast cancer when the girls were 14 and 9. My grief at losing her was somewhat softened by knowing she left a lasting impression on and fond memories for my girls. So, my goal was to be as good a Grandmama as she had been.
My older daughter now has four children, ranging in age from 19 to 11. She was pregnant with the youngest when her sister, Rachel, met her husband-to-be. Charlotte, the youngest grandchild, was 15 months old when her Aunt Rachel got married. Rachel and her husband had talked about being foster parents and perhaps eventually adopting. This grandmama was already looking forward to an ever-growing brood.
The, just two months later, Rachel died in a car accident on her way to work. So much of what you lose when you lose a child is what could have been. The wishes and dreams you had for them. And plans. We mamas make plans for our children – how we think their lives should be. Quite often our plans and their plans don’t quite mesh. But we never plan to outlive them.
Losing my younger daughter made me think hard about my priorities in life. It made me want to be more intentional in how I spend my time, and with whom. If the 17-year-old granddaughter wants to text me and bend my ear about her love-of-her-life boyfriend and ask my advice, I’ll listen and advise. Knowing she really just wants to talk and won’t heed my advice. That’s okay. I ignored a lot of good advice at 17, as well.
The 11-year-old likes to FaceTime me when she gets bored. Sometimes I’m assigned to judge her backflips on the trampoline. Sometimes she shows me her entire collection of “squishables” one by one. The other day we played a game via Facetime for two hours.
The two grandsons (19 and 15) don’t tend to text or call. But they love a good debate and a fierce game of poker or chess.
When my girls were little, I was often “too busy” to play a game with them. I traveled a good bit for work and occasionally had to go into the office on a weekend. We had dinner as a family; I helped with homework when needed; and we frequently watched movies together. I wasn’t a neglectful mother, but I do wish some of my priorities had been different. And, of course, I assumed we would have lots of time to do fun mother/daughter activities when they were grown.
I can’t change the past, but I can be mindful that life sometimes changes on a dime. And I can be intentional in how I spend my time. Retirement has opened up more opportunities for my husband and me to prioritize fun over chores when we want. To go out to lunch on a whim.
And, best of all I can spend lots of time just being Grandmama.
Laura
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