ON BEING A GRANDPARENT

This morning I received an email telling me of a challenge being faced by a friend, a former Sunday School class member, who has moved away. Her son's little daughter is quite ill, with what appears to be a neurological problem, possibly a brain or spinal tumor, or a buildup of fluid in one of the two, cause unknown. She is due for some sophisticated tests, which will require extended anesthesia. This is, of course, the stuff of which nightmares are made for parents. We who have been parents fully understand that.

Guess what? We who are now grandparents know that it's going to be no picnic for my friend either. Something like this is hard on the little patient, very hard on the parents, and in some ways perhaps even harder on the loving grandparents, who by nature's design can mostly just stand by and support. The parents must, and should, make all the plans and decisions, and we grandparents can only watch. If we have differing opinions, we can help most by keeping them to ourselves. That's probably a good thing, because there's no law that says we're right all the time, even though we think differently, and at a time like this, the parents don't need the added pressure of having to justify or defend the decisions they're making. No, this is our time to shine in the area of loving support and encouragement, and most of all, prayer.

Only another grandparent understands that we are not only watching our grandchild endure suffering, but we're watching our own child as well. My son and his precious wife lost a baby to a lethal birth defect. He only lived an hour, and I remember only too well the pain of watching my son mourn his son. When he was a little boy, we protected and guarded him, and to a great extent were successful in keeping him from hurt or harm. As he grew up and took control of his life, he had some knocks and disappointments, but he was strong and rolled over and through them with very few scars. The sudden death of his father hurt him very much, but again he was strong, and was a source of strength for me.

Then came the loss of his precious little son, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to shield him from that pain. My own heart was in shreds at the loss of our precious little grandson, but it shattered completely when my tall, strong son broke down in sobs, and there was nothing I could do but stand dumbly by, patting his shoulder.

I watched him with pride as he pulled himself together and gave his grieving wife the support and love she needed so badly. Both of them were numb with grief, but they did what they had to do, made the decisions that must be made at a time like that, planned a funeral and ultimately, in their own hearts and minds, surrendered their little son to God.

The other grandmother is my dear friend, and the two of us cried together as we watched our children walk through the darkest valley of their lives. And we watched them with pride. They picked up the pieces of their life together, focused on the son they already had, and in time made the courageous decision to have another child, not allowing their recent experience to frighten them. They had a strong and healthy little boy.

They became active in a support group for parents who have lost babies or young children, and have been instrumental in helping that organization grow and spread across the country. They have dealt with their grief and used it to fuel their determination to help others who are enduring the same kind of loss. Out of loss, they have produced gain, and we grandmothers are very proud of them.

The whole point here is that these young parents did all this with only stand-by help from us, the grandparents. As hard as it was for us to stand on the sidelines and watch, that is still as it should be. We are no longer the players, we are now the cheerleaders, and that's really not such a bad place to be.

I can't speak for all grandparents, but personally, when I stand by and watch one of my children make good decisions, succeed in some endeavor, or raise their own children well, I feel affirmed. It tells me that my husband and I must have done something right as we were bringing them up in this difficult world. True, we had good clay to work with. The kids were bright and had good hearts. They made us look good and made our job easy. We probably couldn't have ruined them if we'd tried, but still, I can't help taking some pride in their accomplishments. They are good parents, and are bringing up some delightful children of their own.

It's fun to keep the grandkids for a day or two, and indulge them at birthdays and Christmas. We rejoice in their victories at school. We listen to their little confidences, and play the advocate for them with their parents at times. Now, here's a secret that some grandparents aren't willing to admit, but I will. There's a certain relief in going to bed most nights without having to turn our "mommy ears" on, to listen for the sounds that tell us we need to go running for a mop, or initiate a search for a bottle of cough syrup, or just sit by a bed and rub away the pains in growing young legs.

Oh yes, we're willing to do this when we're needed, to give the parents a shot at some vacation time, or just to have some quality time with the grandkids. Still, we know it's temporary, that the parents will be back and gather their chicks and take them home, and any grandmother with a shred of honesty in her soul will admit that she's glad she's a cheerleader now, not an A-team player. The ball has been punted, the baton passed, and life is good.