“Young people need something stable to hang on to – a culture connection, a sense of their own past, a hope for their own future. Most of all, they need what grandparents can give them”………Jay Kesler
When thinking about raising my children, there are two things that come to my mind right away that were very important to me. One is that they would not be followers. I wanted them to be able to think on their own, evaluate any situation in light of the core values that were taught them, and come to their own conclusions. That means that they would not just go along with the crowd, that they could actually be independent thinkers, trendsetters, different, their own unique yet dynamic selves. This was best emulated by both my mother-in-law and my dad. The other essential thing was that they develop a close relationship with their grandparents. I guess that was a pressing need for me because I only knew one of my grandparents. I always coveted a relationship with a grandparent but unfortunately my maternal grandmother lived far from us and when I did get to spend time with her we didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. I always felt bad when the children in my elementary class would have “grandmother or grandfather” stories to share at “show and tell” on Mondays. We would all start out with the same first line….“Over the weekend I………” I suppose this was the first introduction to public speaking and to this day, I absolutely hate it!!! When my first child was born, I had both my parents and my mother-in-law close by so it was a great opportunity to foster close, meaningful relationships. I have to admit that my mother-in-law, although she is a very loving, caring person, is a little eccentric – very unconventional. This led to many precarious adventures and sometimes dangerous situations. One such event took place one cold night in Brooklyn, NY. I received a phone call urging me to go and get my mother-in-law from her house. Fortunately she didn’t live far from us. You see, she brought one of those houses that you can buy for a dollar and then fix it up. Most people would buy the house and then take out a loan to fix it, but she, being quite naive and always trying to help others, would pay local guys in the neighborhood to do work on the house. Of course not all of them were stand-up people and oftentimes would just take advantage of her kindness. Well, the house was in pretty bad condition. It didn’t have a stable staircase to reach the second floor and of course it had no heat. She was able to get electricity and gas somehow so she could at least cook. During the winter months it was soooo cold in there. I’d pack up the children and we would go to see her just about everyday. We would have to sit around all bundled up. I couldn’t really let them play because of all the debris in the house – nails, unstable floors, holes, not to mention her mentioning an occasional rodent frequenting her humble abode. For us, however, this was her – we always loved her and enjoyed spending time with her – no matter the circumstances. Well one night during the winter, she decided to roast chestnuts in the house – WHAT???????? I guess she didn’t get the part of the song that says “Chestnuts roasting on an OPEN fire – meaning outside……not inside a house with no way for the smoke to escape….. Consequently, someone on the block, seeing all the smoke coming from the shell of the house, called the fire department. When the children and I arrived, there were fire trucks everywhere!!!!! All I could say was “Lillian, what are you doing?” I immediately made her pack up her things and she came to stay with us. The children grew to love her despite her eclectic ways.
It was always a treat for them to visit my parents as well. My mother was pretty conventional but my dad – definitely marched to the beat of his own drum. Not only was he unconventional, but quite stubborn as well. Interestingly enough, both my mother-in-law and him were born within a couple weeks of each other. Unfortunately my mom died when my second child, Maya was only five months old, after that we visited my dad even more often. He would play hide-in-seek with them, feed them, take care of their every need whenever we would visit. My mother-in-law decided to move to New Mexico with my ex – so that just left granddaddy. Even after the children and I moved to Maryland I would make sure that we visited granddaddy every other weekend. Every other Friday after work, I would pack up the car, load up the “Patch the Pirate and GT and the Halo Express” tapes (and sometimes an occasional Teddy Pendergrass, Stevie Wonder or Luther Vandross tape) and off we would go to Brooklyn to granddaddy’s house. He would even visit with us sometimes. He would take the Greyhound bus or catch Amtrak and come down to Maryland. He became “one of the kids” while he was with us, playing outside, building playhouses inside by draping blankets over things, going for walks in the neighborhood. I would often worry about him walking in the neighborhood by himself because we don’t really have sidewalks like they have in Brooklyn. Once he would put his coat on, I’d holler for Nayda to hurry and go with him. He attended basketball practices, soccer practices, track meets and was truly part of the family. One afternoon after I got off from work and picked the children up from school, we were driving along the major street to our house and who did we see but granddaddy walking along the shoulder of the road. Now I’m not talking about a small country road, this is a major thoroughfare – four lane highway-type with designated turning lanes!!!! The children hollered out “look, there’s granddaddy!” I immediately pulled off the road and told him to get in but he insisted that he wanted to walk. I said “daddy, nobody walks on Greenbelt Road!!!! Get in!!” That very next weekend he was back at home in his own environment. Once again we loaded up the car and went to Brooklyn. I walked in the house to find him washing dishes and then he proceeded to water some flowers he had sitting on the table. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that the flowers were not real. SO, I said to him, “daddy, what are you doing?”
He informed me that he was watering the flowers. The children and I looked at each other. I said to him…”Daddy, those are artificial flowers, they don’t need water”. True to his usual style, he started arguing with me. He was insistent that the flowers needed water and that they even liked it when he watered them. The children and I kept trying to convince him that the flowers didn’t care whether he watered them or not. Then he suddenly announced with conviction….”They like the water! I know they like it because every few days when I go back to water them, the water is gone – so they must be drinking it!”. I never laughed so hard. Finally I had to give in. I told him “OK daddy, if you want to water those flowers, go right ahead.” As unconventional as both their grandparents were, they were loving, caring, and very nurturing to the children. The children adored their grandparents and knew that every time they got to spend time with either of them, they were in for a real treat.
“Grandparents make the world……a little softer, a little kinder, a little warmer”
Postscript: my father lived to be 90 years old and died in May of 2011. My mother-in-law, at the time of this post is in her 80’s, still resides in New Mexico and has dementia.
3 Responses
I remember always wishing my Mother parents lived closer to us. We were in Alabama and they lived in Minnesota. My Father’s mother lived next door to us and honestly I liked her but she didn’t seem to return the feelings. She was Jehovah’s witnesses and we were not she always seem to care more for her other grandchildren who were than me and my siblings. My Dad would insist that every day we go to her house, me and my siblings would go just long enough to speak and go back home, well that wasn’t good enough for my Dad he would tell us “go right back over there and spend some time and I mean a long time”. We would reluctantly go back because we had to and just sit, no talking. On the other hand when my Mother parents would visit we would be so happy, they would come every summer for a week. I know Grandma Julia lived us and we liked her she just had a different way of showing it. In the scheme of things I do miss them all.
It just goes to show you that no matter what your individual religious beliefs are, you should always show love. Love conquers all!!!! Thank you for sharing this with me.
I remember parts of a story about your lovely mother-in-law driving on the streets of Brooklyn with no driver’s license. It is a sketchy remembrance, but I do remember how enjoyable it was when you told it.