To Gram or not to Gram...that is the Question.

I read a bumper sticker once that said “If I knew having grandchildren would be so much fun, I would have had them first”. It's funny 'cause it's so true. If you are a grandparent you're nodding your head up and down, thinking of the sublime difference between raising your kids and raising your grandchildren.

Calvin Wesley (my youngest)  and Gram

I became “Gram” for the first time when I was 45 years old and it was a brand new experience for me. An experience for which I had no concept of, nor training for. I'd had no grandparents around when I was a child, and my own mother and mother-in-law lived far away from us when my kids were young. They were from a generation and an upbringing that taught “Grandchildren should be seen (when called for) but not heard from, so please keep the noise down and go play outside like a good boy”. Neither of them were what you'd call spoilers or smotherers. I don't fault them. They did the best they knew to do, as do all of us. So donning the mantle of “Gram” was entering unchartered waters for me, and over the years I've experienced multiple moments of being lost at sea on the S.S. Gramma—oftentimes feeling like a fish out of water, flapping my fins on the sand, gasping for air and hoping someone throws me back into the ocean.

Leah and Lorynne (my two oldest g-daughters)

By the time I was 55 I had been blessed with 7 more grandchildren....that's 8 grandkids in 10 years if anyone is doing the math....and I realized along the way that it was either sink or swim in the grandma pool—and after all these years, I still flounder. My own mother had four children and 12 grandchildren between them all. As adults, her kids were tossed to every compass point in the country; Georgia, Florida, Arizona and So. California. She advised me once (after observing me laughing and playing with the two oldest granddaughters when they were very young) not to get too emotionally close to my little darlings. Shaking her head and looking at me with love she said, “Their parents could decide to move to Timbuktoo, you know. And you'll get your heart broken”. She was looking out for my best interests. She was speaking from experience. She was right. She was wise. Sigh....she was ignored.

Georgia, Cal and Mary Katherine - my Bischlets

I have thrown caution to the wind and shamelessly loved each one of my grandchildren, and can't even explain how big my heart grows when they simply walk into a room, give me a hug and call me “Gram.” I rejoice with them over their triumphs, pray for them continually, and cheer them on from the sidelines. I secretly worry about them when they go to summer camp or when they get bullied in school. The oldest one just got her driver's license, and that opens up a whole new can of anxiety. I am still amazed after all this time over how much of my heart they have unknowingly taken posession of.

Jared and Ian - Inseparable Cousins

I also worry about whether or not I'm doing it right. Do I spoil them too much? Not enough? Should I offer more advice? No advice? Should I offer more help to their parents? Or am I in their lives too much? And here's something else....although I am a huge supporter of my wonderful adult children who each are (truth be told) doing an outstanding parenting job, I have absolutely no say-so in how they raise my grandchildren. AND even if I disagree with parenting decisions they make, I must remain firmly supportive of them, and especially to the grandkids faces when they don't agree with their parents either. I am still a mom and am painfully aware that my first job is to cheer on my own kids as their number one fan....but it's difficult. It's annoying at times. I think to myself  “Just let me raise your kids...I'm older and smarter, and I'd do a much better job now than I did when I was raising YOU.” Don't get me wrong—I do give my opinion...which largely falls on deaf ears—but then I shut up. Well I usually shut up...OK maybe sometimes.

Oh mom you were right. And you were wrong. You were a rock, you were an island...you didn't have to be inconvenienced to pick up my kids from school—ever—or sit with me in the doctor's office holding my fevered babies in your arms, awaiting our turn. You never had to sacrifice your saturday mornings to attend children's soccer games or rush to their school after work on a weeknight to see their Spring recital; and they never bothered you with a request to decorate a special cake for them for their birthdays. You were able to live your life unfettered, foot-loose and fancy-free; buying grown-up cars instead of mini-vans, and placing expensive objects d'art around your home without fear of them being demolished.

Ryan..letting Gram kiss him

On the other hand, you never had a grandchild call you on a Saturday morning asking you to come over and pick them up so they could come spend the day with you “just 'cause”. You never called your out-of-town grandkids, asking them to put the phone on the piano and play you their latest recital piece then clap your hands and hoot so loud the phone rattled on the keyboard. You never had those grandchildren spend a weekend with you then hug you so tight when they were leaving to go back home, and ask if they could stay with you longer. You never held a colicky grandchild in your arms at 11:00 pm in the dark, rocking in your rocking chair, singing lullabyes with the moonlight streaming into the window, with every ounce of your being melting into her beautiful, wide-awake brown eyes. And you never experienced the awesome pride as, with tears in your eyes, you watched them walk down the aisle to graduate from school, knowing they'll be entering life happy and successful and yes, that you have a tiny little part in that.

Mom sometimes I wonder if you can see us from heaven and if you are still wagging your warning finger at me. Or if your opinion has softened and changed—if you rejoice with me in the accomplishments of your great-children, as well as the accomplishments of your daughter. Oh mom, I know you were happy and lived a good long life. I don't think you had many regrets...but you missed out on so much.