Warrigal
SF VIP
- Location
- Sydney, Australia
I was only 44 when my first grandchild was born. I assured my daughter that I wanted to be mother to the mother and that I did not want to take over her child. I saw my role as helping the next generation raise their children and I think that this is an important role for a grandparent. I gave the same assurance to my daughter in law. Both women were happy to receive my assistance, both financial and supportive.
I have developed a special relationship with each of my six grandchildren over their growing years. All have enjoyed coming to my house for visits and overnight stays. I have been their transport, especially during school holidays, and I have attended significant school events when their parents could not take time off work. I took them to the movies and other entertainments and later they invited me to join them when new episodes of Star Wars or movies like Avatar were screening. There is a sign in my kitchen that says "Grandma's Kitchen - kids eat free" and even today these grown up grandchildren enjoy a family meal at our house.
One granddaughter has special needs due to a genetic disability and we are especially close. I am part of her support network as she learns to live independently, manage her finances and seek employment. For as long as I live I will continue to help her mother by helping the grand daughter. All of the others are now independent adults and I get on well with their various partners. I see them a lot less now but that is how it should be. I know that they love me as a very significant other and when we all get together they show it. They allow me to be a friend on their Facebook pages and lol at some of my entries. On FB I have a new persona - I am G'ma and I am 'cool'.
I have few memories of my own grandparents. My maternal grandmother died the year before I was born and all I have of her are stories. Her husband was my special granddad. For almost the first three years of my life he was my father substitute because Dad was away in the war. He took me for walks with the dog, bought me ice creams and made me dolls' furniture in his workshop. He grew Iceland poppies in his garden and paid me theepence not to open the buds prematurely. I was always curious to see what colour petals were hidden inside each bud.
I remember him when he was very ill, shortly before he died. He was asleep on a couch in the sun on the closed verandah of my aunt's home. I looked at his old, gnarled hands and had a sense of connectedness that I remember to this day. His old hands and my 13 year old hands were the same - same proportions, same fingernail shape and so on. I have my grandfather's hands and now mine are old too.
On my father's side his parents lived in the same street as us but there was never any emotional connection at all. Granddad was ill with silicosis of the lungs and all I remember of him was a racking cough. I'm told that he was a kind man but I was never close enough to discover this for myself. Grandma was not the warm and loving kind and I never connected with her either. She called me cold but I don't think that I was the problem. I regret not having reached out to her when I was grown up because I think she had had a hard life.
What I learnt about grandparenting was the result of watching my mother and mother in law relate to their children's children and to their children's partners. These women were generous with their time and love and helped me and my children. Both passed away loved by everyone in their family circle. I hope I do the same when my time comes.
I have developed a special relationship with each of my six grandchildren over their growing years. All have enjoyed coming to my house for visits and overnight stays. I have been their transport, especially during school holidays, and I have attended significant school events when their parents could not take time off work. I took them to the movies and other entertainments and later they invited me to join them when new episodes of Star Wars or movies like Avatar were screening. There is a sign in my kitchen that says "Grandma's Kitchen - kids eat free" and even today these grown up grandchildren enjoy a family meal at our house.
One granddaughter has special needs due to a genetic disability and we are especially close. I am part of her support network as she learns to live independently, manage her finances and seek employment. For as long as I live I will continue to help her mother by helping the grand daughter. All of the others are now independent adults and I get on well with their various partners. I see them a lot less now but that is how it should be. I know that they love me as a very significant other and when we all get together they show it. They allow me to be a friend on their Facebook pages and lol at some of my entries. On FB I have a new persona - I am G'ma and I am 'cool'.
I have few memories of my own grandparents. My maternal grandmother died the year before I was born and all I have of her are stories. Her husband was my special granddad. For almost the first three years of my life he was my father substitute because Dad was away in the war. He took me for walks with the dog, bought me ice creams and made me dolls' furniture in his workshop. He grew Iceland poppies in his garden and paid me theepence not to open the buds prematurely. I was always curious to see what colour petals were hidden inside each bud.
I remember him when he was very ill, shortly before he died. He was asleep on a couch in the sun on the closed verandah of my aunt's home. I looked at his old, gnarled hands and had a sense of connectedness that I remember to this day. His old hands and my 13 year old hands were the same - same proportions, same fingernail shape and so on. I have my grandfather's hands and now mine are old too.
On my father's side his parents lived in the same street as us but there was never any emotional connection at all. Granddad was ill with silicosis of the lungs and all I remember of him was a racking cough. I'm told that he was a kind man but I was never close enough to discover this for myself. Grandma was not the warm and loving kind and I never connected with her either. She called me cold but I don't think that I was the problem. I regret not having reached out to her when I was grown up because I think she had had a hard life.
What I learnt about grandparenting was the result of watching my mother and mother in law relate to their children's children and to their children's partners. These women were generous with their time and love and helped me and my children. Both passed away loved by everyone in their family circle. I hope I do the same when my time comes.
She beat religion into her own kids, and frightened me from the age of two with stories the tortures of hell which awaited naughty little girls like me! Unfortunately she didn't have the decency to die before she was 96, it is a pity someone didn't put a pillow over her face.