The Blessings My Grandparents Gave Me

I was born in the 50's, and back in those days, grandparents were a very strong presence and influence in the family. Sunday's were spent at Grandma and Grandpa's house eating pot roast and apple pie, sitting around the table or living room laughing and telling stories, and a lot of other family activities. Games were a big deal with both my sets of grandparents. The only real important thing to me was that they were present in my life regularly, they loved me unconditionally, and influenced me greatly on how to live and relate with others. They played a major role in how I felt about myself, and how I treated others. Though all my grandparents are gone, their lives still influence my life, especially as it relates to being a grandmother myself.

My grandmother's were as different as night and day. My maternal grandmother was round and plump, with red lips, red hair, and an ample lap to listen to stories on. I sat on that precious lap and laid my head on the soft bosom more hours than I can count when I was really small. Her name was Dolly, so we called her Mama Dolly. She was a great story teller. Whether it was bible stories, made up stories, or old fables or folk tales, it was a time of learning about God, the world, the way my grandmother thought about herself, God, and others. It was a time of intimacy just between she and I.

A lot of my early nurturing came from Mama Dolly. Hugs and kisses and pet names (mine was "little Madonna") filled our days with her, and she would spend hours playing games with us. The only negative thing that I can say about Mama Dolly is that when my sisters and I were in our teens, she would still look over at our mother and say, "Can I give the girls some c-a-n-d-y?' I guess she forgot how much of a role she played in teaching us to read. Mama Dolly taught us a lot by example on how to have compassion for others and to make helping others a priority. She lived this every every day of her life. She was a Christian Scientist by religion, a religion I do not hold to, but she was a "practitioner" and spent many hours a day on the phone with friends who were suffering. What I learned from that was to love and reach out to those who are hurting.

My paternal grandmother's name was Marion. We just called her Grandma. Grandma was tall and slender, gray hair, very few wrinkles, didn't smile much, but when she did it was Christmas. Grandma gave us a perfunctory hug when we came in and when we left. There was nothing in between. But her love language was not physical affection. It was time and attention, and food. If my little sister pulled my hair and called me a name, I went looking for Grandma. When I found her she'd say, don't worry honey, let Grandma fix you a piece of cinnamon toast and a glass of milk or hot chocolate. If we fell and skinned our knee, it was fixed with a band-aid and bowl of scrambled eggs. If we were good, we helped her make and eat a batch of cookies.

Grandma's menu was the same every time we went over to her house for dinner, except on holidays, and that was pot roast with all the trimmings. We had the same thing every time because she knew it was everyone's favorite. We knew she loved us when we walked in and smelled that pot roast. We knew she loved Grandpa when she tossed him a roll across the dining room table every Sunday dinner. Strangely, not one person in the family had a weight problem at that time. Grandma's idea of playing games was cards rather than board games. Grandma liked to gamble but mom wouldn't have it, so she would just show us her penny can that she and her friends used to gamble with (at least they weren't high rollers). Grandma was very competitive. We stopped being innocent children when the games began. However, her competitiveness was partly in fun, and while she was bemoaning her fate at one of our ill-timed victory plays, she would say way to go, your getting better and smarter all the time. At the game table is where we saw our grandma laugh the most. She laughed at everything we said and did. Not in a ridiculing way, she just enjoyed the funny things we said. Often our funny words and antics would remind her of a story from her childhood and she would enthrall us with her tales of childhood, which were quite funny.

Grandma used to love to dress up and have us all dress up and take us "downtown." We would go on a shopping trip once a year where Grandma would take us to get us a "good pair of shoes." This would be followed by lunch at her favorite cafeteria, which we believed had the best restaurant food ever cooked just because Grandma said so. These times with her made us feel very special.

Both of my grandfather's were kind of in the background when my grandmother's were around. They were a little on the quiet side, but came alive when we walked in the door. Both were very affectionate and made us giggle. Mama Dolly's husband, my Grandpa Lyle, tickled and said silly, silly things. He always called us "pickle puss," a term I still use unconsciously around my own grandkids or other's small children. My Grandpa Len used to listen to us very carefully and comment on the things we said so we knew he was listening. This particularly had a positive effect on me. I felt of value when my grandparents responded to something I said or did because I knew they were listening and paying attention. One particularly heartwarming memory of my Grandpa Len was when he took me trick or treating one year when my entire family was at home sick with the flu. He took me for a mile or more, we got home late, and my family even roused from their comas to admire all the treasure I'd brought home to share. We had some very special time together that night and formed a special bond I have never forgotten.

So, now that I am a grandparent, I want to create in relationships with my grandchildren some of the same things my grandparents gave me. However, I am me, not my grandparents, so I have to use my own personality and style. I do not make scrambled eggs and toast when my grandchildren come to me with some poor misfortune. But I hug them, listen, offer comfort, wisdom, and a prayer. These were also opportunities to share something that happened to me one time that they could identify with. Grandchildren love to hear about the lives of their parents and grandparents. It is an opportunity to use their imagination and realize that we fight the same struggles as they do/

I tend to be more like my maternal grandmother where affection is concerned. I am a hugger, holder, and kisser. That being said, not all my grandchildren are into that sort of thing. One of my grandson's is a deep thinker and an observer of life and human nature. He is nine now. When I come into the house he says "Hi Nana," I get a little hug, then "I see you cut your hair?" or "I see you dyed your hair?" I have tried to teach him to say "colored" your hair, not "dyed", but he fails to see the difference and I don't want to major too much on a minor.This tells me he is interested in something about me. For some reason, my hair color, style, length, is of interest to him and he likes to talk about it. Perhaps it's his way of noticing change in me as I grow older. I don't see he and his brother more than two or three times a year due to circumstances, but it seems my hair is a kind of barometer to him of how I am doing or changing. I think the more I keep it colored (not dyed) the better he feels.

His younger brother is a very active ball of fire. He is the one in every family who never stops saying, "Nana, look at me," or "Nana, watch me do this." I make sure to pay very close attention and comment accordingly. Then he goes into another round. "Nana, now watch how I do it? See Nana, it works better this way then when I did the other way." I have to be on my toes to see the minor differences. Sometimes the things he does are not safe or are in some way inappropriate, then I have to be careful how I tell him tp stop. I don't want to wound, but I don't want to turn the other way either. So I do the best I can by speaking the truth in love and moving on quickly. This seems to work well for the most part.

These two young boys are a year and 10 days apart. I would expect them to be close, but they are always at each other's throats. The fighting and bickering get very tiresome as I am sure that many of you can relate. It is a very delicate road to travel to try and spend quality time with them and not lose my patience. I insist on respect for each other, and I will not play or indulge any further if they are going to continue to hurt one another. This usually works at least for a time. Eventually, it usually calls for a change of scene so we get into a game or go for a walk or in some way change activity and refocus. I am glad they mind me better than their parents.

I think another thing that I have learned the hard way, is to not interfere with the way your children raise their kids unless there is real harm going on. In other words, if they like to give their kids lots of sweets, that's their prerogative. It is they who will have to pay the dentist, not I. If they allow their kids to get up from the table with food still on their plate, that's their problem. I can go home and not hear the kids whining for something to eat when they get into bed. I rarely challenge discipline methods. When I do have a concern, it usually has to do with the emotional health of the child rather than just being at odds with their style of discipline. If mom and dad are having a disagreement about the child's behavior while I am there, it can get quite uncomfortable for the children and I. I usually suggest maybe take to a private place and work it out. Of course, that usually just results in looks of resentment. I have learned that speaking to them at a time when kids are out of ear shot and there is not conflict at the moment more fruitful.

I have two grown children who appreciate my gentle corrections when the kids misbehave. I have one who doesn't. And that's okay. Sometimes it confuses the kids, and I need to give my son and his wife the time to do their job before adding my two cents. In other words, I need discernment.

Much like my Mama Dolly, reading and storytelling is my favorite activity with my grands. It's a perfect opportunity to pass on what my grandmother gave me and form intimate bonds with my little darlin's.

Although my grandparenting style has some differences from my own grandparents', there are also many similarities. The important thing, is that their legacies live on. What legacies of theirs can I pass on? I can pass on the legacy of love, time, attention, kindness, listening, comfort, fun, and imagination. That's what I was given in different styles, but very effectively. My grandchildren all know they are loved and valued, no matter what they might do wrong. They know that Nana will listen, not condemn, and will correct or pass on wisdom with gentleness.

Mama Dolly, Grandpa Lyle, Grandma, and Grandpa Len, I love you all and thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving me so tangibly, and teaching me how to be a better person, better parent, and better grandparent.

© Lori Colbo 2011