My children’s grandmother
When I see my grandson and his mother together, I am reminded of my own mother who died when I was 14.
The main regret I had about her death is that she never met my children and never got to share their mutual specialness. My older son was more independent but my younger son – who is the father of my grandchildren – could have used some more attention. He and my mom shared a love of doing fussy things. He’s the kid who stayed up till midnight in gradeschool making a collage mask to please a teacher. One year-maybe same year and teacher – he made me a vase from a salad dressing bottle (nice shape) by putting hundreds of tiny torn pieces of masking tape on it, then rubbing it with some brown paint to ‘antique’ it, and then pasting a really nice daffodil picture on it. Works of art, both.
My mother decorated Christmas cookies, made all sorts of candies, assembled plates of goodies for teachers and nuns and her own mother’s employers. She set tables for company with candles in holders, nutcups, folded napkins, salad plates and fruit salad on lettuce leaves. My son would have liked to have helped her.
I never had time for fancy stuff. Or to be honest, interest. I was busy and I selfishly had my own life. I don’t think my kids really suffered neglect but there were times I know they could have stood some more attention. Younger son, especially. He’s the one who famously asked me why I hadn’t had him first.
My grandson has a mother and she is very involved in his life. They were here for a while this weekend, dropping off the granddog on their way for a spring break trip. While they were here Deb got news that Will got accepted on a ‘traveling’ team for Little League for this summer. She was as excited, or maybe more than he was. They worked crosswords – paper and pencil – together.
Will’s an accomplished kid. But part of that comes from his mother’s attention. She is good to his sister Katie as well. She is a good mother.
I’m also glad that my son – the one who didn’t have a grandmother – is very fortunate and appreciative of, and also very good to his own family. It’s good to see them together. They are nice kids too, not spoiled….. says grandma (me).
(I’m guessing at the tag so if it’s not right…. maybe I can come back and fix it.
I doubt we can understand all the influence we have on our progeny. Some of it is unintentional. But the influence is yours none the less. Your kids turned out well. I have it on good authority.
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I loved all of my grandparents, but I loved my mom’s mom the best, but only because I had the most time with her… I was pretty young when both of my dad’s parents were gone, and only in high school when my mom’s dad died… so Mema (mom’s mom) was my only grandparent for a long time… I very much miss her… and her influences on my life. She taught me a lot about running a business, and quilting, and living… I told her I was stressed out once, and she said, “What does that even mean? We didn’t have “stressed out” when I was growing up!”
@bambamgotchatwice I remember pictures of the three of you in your mom’s diary. There was a lot of love there.
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My mom used to do “fancy” sorts of things, in a country girl’s way of doing them–valentine boxes for my school classes, cookies for school events, decorated cakes with a decorating tube and it’s pointed tips. I didn’t do that for my children. I famously said in a board meeting for an art school that because I had breasts didn’t mean I was intended to feed the world. Not proud of that, but I said it. I earned two degrees while raising children from second graders to college age kiddos. So nothing like being a 24/7 mom. Anyway…I hear you and mine turned out to present us a range of super mom to quirky mom families. I didn’t know your mom died when you were so young…moms of girls 14 and older can be such a help to their daughters over those years. Did you have a grandmother or aunt or anyone whom you were close to?
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how interesting to learn of your mother’s creativity, also your son’s. I hope you still have that bowl he made you. Don’t consider yourself as not creative, you truly are – just in a different form. Your art is in your writing, your words and format in sharing them.
Thanks for telling us this one. I am glad you will be writing here more, I will too now that PB is shutting down. hugs p
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My paternal grandparents died before I was born. My maternal grandfather when I was a toddler. The only grandparent I remember is my maternal grandmother and she was in her 80’s and had so many grandchildren that she didn’t pay much attention to any of them. I once told my mother that I didn’t think grandma even knew our names. Her reply was that she probably didn’t because she didn’t like kids. I guess after having 8 of her own she was just done with kids!
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My grandparents were killed in a motel room with carbonmonoxide when I was 14 months old, all I remember of them was the day they died when my aunt came over and my father saying “what? the dog died?” Then silence and my parents went into their bedroom and closed the door.
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I’m back here–just to let you know. I’ll be reading your entries.
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I’m wondering if you ever had a chance to read Motherless Daughters by Hope Edelman. Have you already read it? My mother died just before my 10th birthday so I could really relate to your entry. I’m so very sorry to all for your loss. It’s hard to make it without our mothers and our children miss out on so very much. Hugs! P.S. The vase your son made you sounds adorable. How sweet!
@wildrose_2 I did read it and a subsequent book of responses from readers of the first book. I bought them both new and they are on my E shelf – I must have been impressed or I would not have bought them. I need to check them out again.
I remember from Dawn Brodie’s bio of Thomas Jefferson whose father died when he was young that we never get any older emotionally than we are when a parent dies because we never see ourselves in their eyes as older. I believe that. I am eternally 14, you are eternally 10. Yet we go through out lives…. probably not more damaged than a lot of other people whose parents lives to be old and maybe did their children damage.
Wishing you well.
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What great memories you share. I just arrived back here, will keep PB going as well. Wish there was more time to do all kinds of things. So wonderful to know you’re here too. Love your writing. I did not do enough for my kids too. I realized it too late. It haunts me. Will do so forever.
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