The Gift of Being a Grandmother

I am fortunate to be a grandmother, “Nini,” to four precious grandchildren under the age of seven. Bearing witness to my daughters as parents, navigating the complexities of parenting and work, I often sit back quietly, soak in, and beam with pride.

​The birth of each grandchild was unique and special. I share individual Nini times. Benji, my oldest, and I maintain a tradition of baking chocolate chip cookies. He knows the recipe by heart and tells me if I neglected to bring an ingredient out of the pantry. Jake, next in line, calls me on his way to school to sing his favorite song, Hello New Friend, and we play with his animals. Madelyn number three and I spend time together on our designated chairs, conduct tea parties, and she loves to brush my hair. Brynn, the newborn baby, and I are still to establish our tradition. When she and I snuggle, I sing Skidamarink. 

I look at each adorable grandchild and see snippets of my beloved sisters, Margie and Jane. Mixed emotions of joy, sadness, with immense love. I wish Margie and Jane were here to share the happiness, stories, and families with me. The legacies of Margie and Jane live on in their names, physical characteristics, mannerisms, and little personalities. I never take this for granted.

The best time is alone time, one on one. That is our special time. I was fortunate to spend three days with Jake during the recent snowstorm. People asked, “What did you do with a toddler for three days?” My answer: “No clue.” The time passed. We played and had fun, and thankfully, Cocomelon provided background music. Benji and mine annual pilgrimage to Michael’s to negotiate/decide on a craft project and then select an item for his sister Madelyn. Often, we sit together quietly. “Hold Nini’s hand,” from Madelyn, when I visit, melts my heart. A treat to get her up in the morning and from her nap greets me with a broad smile.

Parenting today is challenging in a complex world, at a faster pace, and for working parents. I raised my daughters in a simpler world, devoid of technology. Being a single working mother, I made the mistake of taking TV away for a week and stuck to it. We know the witching hour with small children is from five to seven. It was a long week! I grew wiser and realized a day was sufficient.

Fascinated by the inner workings of the tiny developing brains, astounded by the questions, and the words that spill out. The expression, out of the mouths of babes. A smarter generation, an encyclopedia of knowledge, Nini will need Siri on speed dial. 

I relish every moment: the dimpled hands, expressive eyes, tantrums, the simplicity of diversion, creativity, and their individual development. My visits are void of photos; every moment treasured; memories cemented in my heart. Anxious that I might not remember the charming phrases, I started a journal. What delight we will experience years from now to read a record of their development, adored moments, and milestones.

​The role of a grandmother is a genuine gift. Benji, Jake, Madelyn, and Brynn, Nini loves you to the moon and back.