I write this piece in praise and awe of the sheer forces of nature who are our parents. Oran and Tallulah are not blessed with grandfathers which, to be honest, is a source of huge regret for myriad reasons, and an enormous relief for others. That said, their lives are enriched immeasurably by the two remarkable women affectionately known as Grandma and Granny – aka The Supergrans.
My own childhood was shaped in part by my Grandmother and her relatives; indeed, for my cousins and I a Saturday morning trip to the anchor at the Foot of the Walk (in the People’s Republic of Leith) was entertaining in lucrative in equal measure- it seems to us that she knew literally everybody, and in those days ‘A penny for the laddie’ was almost compulsory.
Quite aside from the invaluable help and support grandparents offer in a practical manner week-in, week-out, they give a perspective and unconditional love for our progeny which is profound and remarkable, but can be too easily forgotten overlooked.
What can loosely be described as my parenting ‘style’ is in no small part a litany of pretty direct plagiarism from my own childhood- in particular, the tendency to ask if best to cut off a limb or more when cut or grazed has turned any number of tears into laughter at a rate of knots.
Parenthood serves admirably to remind us of much more than ourselves; similarly the process can serve to remind us not to take grandparents for granted; to be grateful for their love and support. Similarly the passing of time, and our newer relationships with our parents serve to remind us that they were often much cooler than us, let alone how much we gave them credit for (invariably not much).
It’s vital that we as parents remember not to take grandparents for granted- assuming that you have a decent relationship, that they get to see our kids regularly not just when convenient for us for childcare or a drop-off.
Every time they see each other, I compel the youth of truth to kiss and hug on leaving with an ‘I love you’; I know how much it means, and 99 times out of a hundred the response is involuntary, and heartfelt.
My mother serves as an object lesson in energy unbound, as she careers around the living room on all fours, chasing the kids from pillar to post, and engaging in absurdity to the n’th degree. If anything, the rapture my mother has for Oran and Lula is distinct from her relationship with me; their direct relationship is a source of immense pride. Jayne’s Mum, meanwhile, can corral her four grandchildren with an understated but deceptively effective style, and is similarly doted upon as Grandma.
The differences between Granny and Grandma are as pronounced as their love for the kids- one is an avid line dancer while the other prefers art classes and the theatre. Regardless, their impact is as significant as it is diverse, and the unconditional love and support they offer is, unsurprisingly, unwavering. The mantras and advice they offer may be questionable at times, but more often than not life-affirming, and I love the way my mother-in-law calls Oran ‘son’
Grandparents inevitably let our children away with behaviour we would have been hung, drawn and quartered for, but that’s fine; they deserve it after the shift we know they put in with us, even if they put us in orange, brown and white woollen disasters and flares (thanks Mum).
Indeed, the constant stream of treats and gifts which come to our house weekly is, as I recall in stark contrast to my formative years, where the closest thing to a sweet snack was a piece of bark. This was just one of the numerous reasons I loved going to my aunt’s house- she put sugar on her lettuce and was never caught short on the biscuit barrel front. Last week amidst the usual treats Grandma turned up with clotted cream shortbread, which I can only assume is made for grandparents, as Scotland and Devon team up to cause calorific havoc- the biggest problem is when the kids don’t like something, leaving it like a beacon in the cupboard against the better judgement of my wife and I.
The rules of parenting mean neither of us can be the good guy all the time, but we can’t begrudge grandparents that right- let’s face it, they’ve earned it. Above all, our children, as we did, can carry the lessons, and the imprint of them in their heads and in their hearts for many years to come; that is an invaluable and wonderful gift.