There’s nothing I love more than hearing all the praises for grandparents that show up. I’ve been a mom for over ten years and I’m proud to say, my children have been blessed with exceptional grandparents. However, we don’t often hear about great-grandparents.
I was blessed with an exceptional grandmother who made an everlasting impact on my life and while my parents have been a big part of my children’s life so was my grandma, their great-grandmother.
I was my grandma’s first grandchild. She loved me, smothered me, disciplined me and parented me. She played with me, listened to me, bought me special presents, taught me things and altogether just loved me. She was the first person who I ever shared my writing with. She was often times, my confidant, the person I called when I had no one else.
She was a hilariously, unique woman who loved to talk. She spent her life running a dairy farm and the stories she had to tell and the experiences she survived were incredible. She also marched to the beat of a different drum. While the rest of the world may exist in shades of gray, she was like a burst of color, igniting, lighting and brightening every room she entered. The crazy stories she would tell, the funny things she did and her odd set of beliefs only added to her charm.
She was there for every important event in my life. On my wedding day, we gave her a front row seat and we had the photographer take some very special three generational photos that I will always cherish. She came over to our house when we returned from our honeymoon because she wanted to be a part of the gift opening. She lived vicariously through her children, through her grandchildren and later through her great-grandchildren.
I remember how important it was the first time she held my oldest daughter. There were tears in her eyes as she held her first great-grandchild. She picked my daughter up, as any seasoned mother would, rocked her, cuddled her, swaddled her and helped change her diaper. I could see the love in her face and the pride beaming from her soul.
My grandmother was still relatively young and she delighted in the opportunity to babysit. For the first few years of each of my daughter’s lives, she helped take care of them. She was our emergency babysitter and still my emergency contact person. Too me, she was ageless, she was my grandma, someone who passed the art of motherhood onto me. There are not very many great-grandparents that can proudly boast to their friends, that they babysit! My grandma could and she wore her title great-grandmother like a badge of honor.
She was proud of her great-grandchildren and she attended every birthday party. She loved to see all of my friends as they slowly grew their own families. She stood beside me as I hosted thanksgiving for the first time and advised me on baking the turkey. She baked us food and stocked our freezer full of easy meals during those difficult years of being a working mom.
She loved to garage sale and started picking up children’s clothing for me. When I couldn’t use them she would tell me to give them to my friends. Before she realized it, she was providing clothing for numerous families in need and they were extremely grateful. She would always tell me that she was old but not old enough to stop helping. She liked to be useful and helping people fulfilled her and made her feel young.
She told me once that she loved being a great-grandmother more than being a grandmother. She said as a grandmother she worried just as much as a parent. It was an ever constant roller coaster ride of ups and downs but as a great-grandparent she could finally let go. She could sit back, relax, delight in every moment of my children’s lives and go to sleep at night without worrying.
As the years slipped by, we stopped having her babysit as day to day tasks became too overwhelming for her. It’s a difficult thing, watching a strong woman such as my grandmother start to have memory lapses and health struggles. Sometimes, she would call me in panic, begging me for help, unable to put together a rational sentence but knowing that something was wrong with her.
Tragically, she fell while living in her assistant living home and crushed her spine. My strong dairy farmer of a grandmother, was now confined to a bed. Instead of giving up hope, she carried on as strong as ever. Sometimes she was as sharp as a tack, other times she was lost in a haze created by her own mind. Even when she was lost, she always thought of her great-grandchildren. She would see my daughters on the TV, playing within their rooms. She would imagine what games they were playing…even as her mind slipped, she was still delighting in them…they were still comforting her.
We lost her only a few months ago. She was eighty-one years old. She left behind four children, seven grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. She was strong until the very end. She left behind quite a legacy. She was my parent, my friend and my namesake. Most importantly, she was a wonderful influence on the lives of my children and she showed them such unconditional love that I know it will always reside deep within them.
Grandparents play such an important role in the lives of their grandchildren. For us…we were also blessed with a great-grandmother who showed up even when she didn’t have to.
