A Question For Grandma

I have seven grandchildren; six grandsons and one granddaughter.  The six eldest are now teenagers ranging in age from 17 to 13.  Our youngest grandson turned 5 this past July.

When the six older grandchildren were little, I started calling them all Roy, including our granddaughter.  I told then I was doing this in case I became forgetful as I got older and couldn’t remember their names.  The boys thought it was hilarious that I also called our granddaughter Roy.

The fun thing was that when all the grandkids were at the house playing outside I would just yell Roy and they would all come running, laughing like crazy.  I thought of it as something special between us.  When our youngest grandson was born he was known as Little Roy.

Something else I always did with my grandchildren was to randomly ask them “who loves you”.  Their answers were always “you do”.  I realized the other day, after a conversation with my youngest grandson that I haven’t asked that question of my teenage grandchildren in a long time.

I will have to remedy that.

I have never seen myself as a very demonstrative person.  I always knew my parents loved me but I don’t ever remember hearing the words.  Saying “I love you” is not always easy for me.  With age sometimes comes wisdom and I’m working on that, consciously saying the words, especially to those who are important to me.  I don’t want them to assume, like I did, I want them to hear the words and know they are loved.

Unfortunately old habits and patterns are difficult to break and my most recent reminder came from Texas.

Hubby’s cousin, Patsy, moved back home with her husband, Len.  They are two very kind, thoughtful and caring people.

Patsy’s mother, Aunt Marian, was such a loving, kind, thoughtful woman who loved freely and shared that love with everyone.  The first time I visited Aunt Marian and her family as a young bride, I remember feeling so uncomfortable.  They were not the cause of my discomfort, it was something within me.  You see, Aunt Marian and her family hugged each other just leaving and entering a room.  “I love you’s” were said like “hello’s” and you knew they were genuine.  Aunt Marian was always telling someone “you’re so special”,  “you’re so wonderful”, or “you make me so happy”.

Patsy reminds me of her Mom and has also reminded me that the words are just as important as the actions.

The other day Little Roy was riding along with me as I drove to finish my last errand, and as always he talked about everything.  the changing colors of the trees, the shapes and colors of the clouds, what his brothers did, how he cracked his Mom’s cell phone and was grounded.

We were chatting along and I asked him “who loves you”.

“You do” was his immediate reply.  He then started talking about how he won’t be going to kindergarten because he doesn’t like school and his next questions was “Grandma, will you love me when I get big”?

“Of course I will” I told him, “just like I love your older cousins”

“Will you love me when I get older” I asked him.

“Grandma, you’re already old” he calmly told me.

“Yes, I know I’m old but hopefully I’ll get older.  If my hair turns white and I get wrinkles (luckily he let that go by), will you love me then” I asked him.

“Yep” was his short and sweet answer.

He changed the subject to where we were going next and we talked about that; one question leading to ten more.

“Will you love me forever, Grandma” he asked out of the blue.

“Yes I will” I told him.

“Forever is a long time Grandma” he reminded me.

“Yes, I know.  That’s exactly how long I’ll love you”.

Three little words, so very important to say.

 

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Look Ma, No Hands

Grandchildren are delightful creatures.  No matter how miserable your day is going, when they show up at your door or call you on the telephone the day has just gotten better.  Now that my grandkids are getting older and very electronic savvy instant messaging counts too; Grandma just has to be able to keep up with them.

They see the world through young, unbiased eyes and share that delight with you.

The other day my youngest 3-year-old grandson was spending the day with me and we were watching “his show” which is the BabyTV channel.    I make it a point to talk to him about what he is watching be it numbers, colors, nature segments, shapes, etc.   Grandma Monkey came on and was teaching her Grandson Monkey about other monkeys that happened to have tails.

“Do you have a tail” I asked GR#7.   “Nope” he answers, “I have a pee pee, do you have a pee pee Grandma”?   How can you not smile?

My grandkids are getting older and in November #4 will join the ranks of teenager.  They don’t do or say the wonderful, funny and sometimes inappropriate things they used to when they were younger.  They also don’t always share everything with me as they did when they were younger and I miss that.

Like the time one of my grandsons told me that he discovered when he blew on their dog’s butt she would lick it.

“Why did you have your face at the dog’s butt” I asked him.

“She had hair hanging from there” he told me.

When I was able to stop laughing I suggested that perhaps he should think of a better way to remove hair from that area of the dog.  Later, I thought about our conversation.  I could see where that would sound reasonable to a 10-year-old.  I can remember blowing hair out of my eyes.  Truth be told he probably just didn’t want to put his hand near the dog’s butt.  Face is ok but not the hand.  I understand.

I remembered the time I was walking our Boxer for bathroom reasons.  He squatted to do his duty and then I noticed something hanging from his butt.  It was one of my knee-high stockings that he obviously thought would make a great snack.

He kept turning around in a circle trying to dislodge the stocking but he couldn’t shake it free.  It took me a moment to figure out how to help him since there was no way I was using my hands.  I told him to sit, I put my foot on the stocking and then turned him loose.  Problem solved without using hands or blowing on his butt.

This same grandson likes to watch television with the closed caption on.  When I asked him why his answer was simple.  “The book’s always better than the movie”.

Grandchildren are good for the soul.

 

 

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