Grandma
I hang up the phone from the conversation with my grandma and the time says one minute and seven seconds. These are our conversations now. That’s all I get from her.
“Hi, Sash, how are the kids?”
“Everyone well?”
“Oh, I’m just fine.”
“Ok, I love you.”
That’s it.
Do I miss the old grandma? Do I miss having longer and deeper conversations? Have I come to terms that this is the new normal?
My grandma was 42 when I was born. The exact age that I am now. I had her all to myself until I was 15, when my first cousin came around. We were like two peas in a pod. Closer and more alike than my mom and I. My grandma was warm and cuddly. She was there right by my side always. She lovingly referred to me as her fourth child and, of course, her favorite. This is why this new normal has taken some time getting used to.
I’ve come to understand that it’s quite normal for children to be close, sometimes closer with their grandparents than their own parents. I know I’ve seen it in my family. I have heard it from many grandparents. They often say it’s because they get to give the children back at the end of the day so it’s easier for them to have a lighter and more easy relationship. There are less expectations. Another reason is because grandparents are older and often more experienced being caretakers so tantrums and misbehavior don’t hold as much weight.
I moved to Los Angeles from New York over seven years ago. I have seen my grandma a lot less since I moved. But at the same time, she’s aged. She’s grown more tired, more grumpy, more worried, more irate and more spacey. She’s really gotten to a point that she’s so difficult her children don’t want to deal with her. I wish I was there to take care of it. But it’s not in the cards. I have my life and my family here in LA now.
Growing up my grandma taught me the most valuable lesson there is: how to shop. I learned how to find the best bargains, what are the best coupons, the best stores. I learned how to really judge if something looks good on, will the material hold up, is it really worth the price? We spent hours in the dressing room, analyzing our selections like our life depended on it. And it was pure joy. To get that much admiration and attention from someone filled my cup to the brim.
Starting when I was as little as 3 we’d travel by car one hour over to New Jersey to shop at the Daffy’s outlet. It was heaven. We’d split up (it was the 80’s, so safer) and meet back at the big, open dressing room. Someone had to help me hang up all the clothes I picked and we’d try everything on. I had so much patience and insight. I really believed my grandma appreciated my critiques. On the long ride home, we’d discuss what we bought, dissecting the price and what we’d wear it with. You’d think it was a dissertation for the amount of time and concentration we gave our shopping trips.
This is not the only thing my grandma gave me. She gave me the feeling of love and care that I missed from my more vagabond life with my mom or dad. My grandma had a more stable life and she was older so she was able to spend more time with me. It was a respite from always being on the go. My grandma made and served all my favorite home cooked meals at regular meal times. I got to watch the muppets at night after my bath. I drank warm milk before bed to help me feel sleepy. But the best was coming into her warm bed early in the morning and cuddling with her. I would listen to the wind whistling through the slightly cracked open window in her house at the end of the cul-de-sac and move in closer to her.
These memories stay with me, they give me comfort. I do miss the old grandma but these feelings don’t fade now that she’s different. I will always look back at our younger years together and feel warm inside. Even now when I can only get a one minute conversation, things are still the same between us.
Supermom to the Rescue!
