I am going to be a Grandmother! Or as I like to be called, a Granny! My son and his wife are expecting their first child, and our first grandchild. In a year that started with me losing my own mother (and my husband losing his beloved Mother in Law), and my children losing their Grandmother, (aka Grancy,) a few months later ,I became a Mother in law myself. Life can change at lightning speed, as we found about a month after the wedding, that we would become grandparents (Granny and Pop Pop).If ever there was a time I wanted to call my mom, it was then.
When I think of all a grandma should be I think of her, Grancy. She is the level of grandparenting I aspire to achieve. Even though I wasn’t fortunate enough to have the love of any grandparents, I know a legend when I see one. She was it. As a young girl, I longed for a grandmother’s love and attention. I was denied the love of a paternal grandmother due to her death at a very young age.My maternal grandmother Chose to not love us.It sounds harsh, but it doesn’t make it less true. When a grandparent shuns her grandchildren for reasons unknown, it is a choice. I have nothing against my cousins she chose to love either. I am honestly happy they received the love I craved. It only made me more determined to someday be the world’s best granny. My parents both had love from their grandparents, so they both got to experience it. I briefly had a great grandmother (my dad’s grandmother) and her love meant everything to me. Speaking to me in Yiddish, handing me money or toys, I felt the love of a grandmother, until I was 5. My maternal grandmother came in and out of my life like the tides. My last in person memory of her was the day before my wedding, coming to the door, telling me she wasn’t coming to my wedding. Handing me a beautiful blanket she had crocheted as her apology. I still have the blanket, but would have traded it in a million times over for her to be there for me the next day.
Watching my mom with my children helped heal some of that brokeness I felt. To see Grancy think my boys hung the moon and stars. To see her hold them and rock them. Make them their favorite foods whenever she saw them. Always available to help with them. My husband and I trusted very few people with our sons, but we always could trust her. We rarely went away, alone, anywhere, but when we did she would keep them overnight, making memories for us all. Swimming, going to the library, making their breakfast, lunch and dinner and a snack at bedtime. Visit’s were always filled with laughter and of stories she would tell them. They felt special in her presence, they felt loved. She was genuinely interested in them and their lives. And she prayed for them and about them. She loved them fiercely and they loved her back the same. Even as the dementia stole most of her memories, when they came to visit, you could see her eyes twinkle and her face light up. A grandmother’s love
I want to be her. To be That grandma. I want my grandkids to Feel the love and pride I have for them.To know I will always be there for them, a safe place. Where they have hung the moon and stars. I hope they laugh at my silly stories and love the cookies I bake for them. I want them to spend days on end and overnights here with me and their Pop Pop. I want to sing songs to them and tell them about Jesus. I never ever want them to question where they stand in our eyes.They will never doubt the love of a grandparent.
Many years ago, I told my at the time, future daughter in law that whenever they decided to have a baby, when they told me, I wanted to be told a certain way. I wanted a sweatshirt with a mock turtleneck, embroidered with the words “World’s Best Grandma”. Partly because it’s funny, but mostly because Grancy wore one just like it. She wore it proudly. She wore the heck out of it. The day they told us we were going to be grandparents my daughter in law tossed a beautiful mock turtleneck sweatshirt at me. It was about 85 outside, but I put that gorgeous garment on faster than I could imagine. Life was coming full circle.
I miss my mom so much. It has been 6 months since she passed on, 6 months since I heard her voice or her amazing laugh. Someday’s, it feels like 6 years. Everyday it hurts. I suspect, in some ways, it always will. The baby is due shortly before the year anniversary of her passing. I think she may have had a hand in that.
When my husband and I first started dating (and frankly for our whole relationship) my mom would comment on how big my husbands feet are (size 13). She would take her size 6.5-7 feet and put them in his shoes, and try to walk in them, laughing her amazing laugh the whole time. Saying how she could almost fit both feet into one of his shoes. Funny, now it is me tryng to fill her very big Grancy shoes.