Grandmothers
Kay Conner Pliszka
Our grandchildren accept us for ourselves, without rebuke or effort to change us, as no one in our entire lives has ever done, not our parents, siblings, spouses, friends—and hardly ever our own grown children.
My son and his family live in Australia, which makes being a grandma quite challenging. When the children were little, my husband and I were teachers and didn't have enough money to visit the kids very often. But every two years during our summer break I would fly to Sydney on the cheapest airfare available. Sometimes that meant thirty hours of flight with numerous stops and long layovers. But I didn't care. Whatever it took for me to be with my son, my Australian daughter-in-law and beautiful grandchildren was okay with me.
My son and his family live in Australia, which makes being a grandma quite challenging. When the children were little, my husband and I were teachers and didn't have enough money to visit the kids very often. But every two years during our summer break I would fly to Sydney on the cheapest airfare available. Sometimes that meant thirty hours of flight with numerous stops and long layovers. But I didn't care. Whatever it took for me to be with my son, my Australian daughter-in-law and beautiful grandchildren was okay with me.
I sent lots of cards and called on holidays when the price was not excessive. It was hard because I so wanted to be a real grandma—able to bake cookies for the kids, tell them stories, answer their questions and be nearby for hugs and kisses.
When the children were six and eight years old, computers were becoming a new form of communication. I knew nothing of them, but the children did. During a visit they got very excited telling me that if I were to buy a computer, we could "talk" every day. It sounded too good to be true.
I went home, bought a computer and started learning how to use it. It wasn't easy but I would not give up until I mastered it. Finally I learned how to send and receive e-mails. What a blessing! Soon I really was talking with my grandchildren nearly every day.
At first, when they were younger, they wrote about their school activities, friends and their hobbies. Once in a while they even "tattled" (or so they thought) on their mom and dad.
As they became older, Tracy wrote more openly. She would tell me when she had a problem and was upset. She would vent after having a disagreement with one of her parents and look to me for comfort or advice. She would describe her innermost thoughts and feelings.
I wondered if other children shared as much with a grandma who was right there with them, looking into their eyes. I wondered if maybe it was easier for a child to "talk" with someone who could not see her. Maybe there was an advantage to being some distance away. In any case it made me feel needed and trusted and loved.
But just about the time I began feeling pretty smug about being a great granny, I received an e-mail from Tracy telling me that her parents were going out of town and that she was planning to have a party at the house without telling them. I couldn't believe she was sharing this with me. This was a part of grandparenting no one had told me about. And I wasn't sure I could hold onto my ranking of greatness.
Did Tracy think I would keep her secret? Was she testing me? Deep down inside did she want me to tell her folks?
This was too much like parenting. I didn't want this much responsibility. And I certainly did not want to be a snitch. Weren't grandmas supposed to be the good guys—the ones with homemade goodies, comforting words and loving smiles? Grandmas weren't supposed to have to rat on their grandkids!
I pondered this dilemma for a couple days, wondering how Tracy would react if I told her mom and dad. Would she be furious with me? Would this be the end of our wonderful e-mail communication? Would my beautiful granddaughter stop loving me?
But if I said nothing there might be serious consequences and I would never forgive myself for being silent. So I called, talked with my daughter-in-law and waited for Tracy's reaction.
It wasn't long before Tracy sent me an e-mail telling me all about the new developments. There was no mention of my part in the situation. There was no anger. Instead it was as though Tracy expected me to do just as I had done.
Wow! Somehow I passed the test. And, even though there were thousands of miles between us, I could not have felt closer to my granddaughter.
Tracy is in college now and she e-mails me about her classes, the campus, her teachers and friends. I'm praying she doesn't get pregnant and ask me not to tell!
(858 words)