Grandmothers

Best Friend^R5

Arlene Rains Graber

My daughter and son-in-law are  ... let's say  ... overprotective parents. So much so that thoughts of leaving my grandson for an entire weekend were unthinkable. They took him everywhere and hadn't left him for longer than a few hours since birth.

By the time he was three, I took the situation into my own hands. After all, I was his grandmother, and Travis should have been developing some memories with me. They lived more than 150 miles away, so it wasn't as though I could drop in now and then. Travis knew me only as a guest who came and went. I longed to be able to put him to bed, get up with him in the morning and spend the day playing. I wanted to know his personality. Why, I didn't even know what activities he liked.

After his third birthday, I talked up the offer of a weekend with Nana. Knowing the responsibility that went with the offer, I must admit it was pretty scary for this grandmother. It had been thirty-five years since I had children, and I worried. Would something happen to this precious child on my watch? Would I be able to make a proper decision if something went wrong? To add to my anxieties, Travis's feelings were a concern. This was a child who had never spent time with a babysitter. His entire security was deep-rooted in Mom and Dad.

I also knew it would be as traumatic for the parents to be away from their son as it would be for my grandchild to have someone else care for him. My daughter was more than particular about her son's care, and given the fact that she was unsure if I could measure up, created anxiety in Travis. Goodness, you'd have thought I'd never had children of my own.

Still, I felt it was time.

At first, my daughter and son-in-law thought the idea shocking, but after thinking about it, they admitted a weekend alone sounded therapeutic. They finally agreed, and we settled on a weekend in September.

The day was crisp, with the hint of autumn in the air, and I could hardly wait to get to their farm. I arrived with bundles of toys, homemade cookies, lots of love, and excitement.

I was left with detailed written instructions. I loved the part where my daughter wrote, "Don't leave the bathroom while he's in the tub." An entire paragraph was devoted to bedtime. Basic rituals like, "Be sure he goes to the bathroom before you put him in bed," were noted.

As we stood in the driveway, waving goodbye, I whispered a silent prayer for wisdom, and told them not to worry.

Travis and I started our day with games. This went well. However, every now and then, Travis would look up and say, "Mommy and Daddy will be home soon, okay Nana?"

I smiled and gave him a hug reassuring him. "Yes they'll be back in two days."

We laughed, played tag, and hide-and-seek. He was trying, but the whole time he kept a vigil out the window with signs of worry written on his face.

Dinnertime arrived. Travis refused to eat. "I want to wait for Mommy and Daddy. I'll eat with them."

The words from his high-pitched voice weren't harsh, only factual. I hesitated, then gave him a wink and poured a glass of milk. I wanted so much to show my daughter that leaving Travis on occasion was a good thing. Perhaps more to the point, it was important for Travis to trust me. We needed to have a relationship.

I set the milk in front of him. "Honey, they won't be back until Sunday. I'm sure Mommy wouldn't want you to go hungry. She likes your tummy to be full and happy."

My psychology didn't work.

"No." His face scrunched into a scowl, his eyes shut tight, and I sensed tears were coming. Feelings of failure began to cloud my mind.

Finally, I sat down and in a firm but gentle tone said, "Travis, I am in charge until your parents get back. So far, I think we're having quite a good time, don't you?"

He looked skeptical, but nodded yes.

"So, let's eat." I looked at my plate and forked a bite of macaroni and cheese. I didn't look up—just ate.

I could feel his eyes watching me. Soon, without a whimper, he started eating. It was a turning point.

Later after playtime and his bath, I suggested a bedtime story. His face lit up and he ran to pick out his favorite books. I sat in the old rocker that had once been mine, and cradled him in my arms. I read to him. By the second book, I felt him relax. Was he actually feeling secure? He snuggled and reached for my hand, holding it tight. His eyes became heavy, almost closing. I kissed his forehead and put the book down.

I tucked him into bed, pulled a blanket up around his shoulders, and whispered, "I love you, sweetheart. I sure had a good time today."

Travis opened sleepy eyes and smiled. "Nana, you're my best friend, aren't you?"

"You bet I am," I replied, "and I can't wait until tomorrow when we'll have more fun."

We've had many weekends since, once even an entire five days, but I'll never forget that first time when we became best friends.

(933 words)