In three days my four granddaughters, who have lived down the street from us since they were born starting twelve years ago, are moving away. They aren’t moving across town, they’re moving fifteen hours away. If you’re a grandma, then I don’t have to tell you about the unbearable heartache I’m dealing with that worsens every minute as the time draws near for them to pull away.
The good news is that they are moving to a beautiful place in Tennessee where my daughter lives, so they are very excited about l living close to their cousins who are the same age. If there’s a silver lining that is it. We can visit and see them all together. Just not every week.
As much as I love them all, my two granddaughters who live in Tennessee have never lived here down the street. They have never been able to be a part of our everyday life, as much as I wish with everything I have, that they could be. We’ve never been able to go to every school function they have, every dance event, share every birthday and holiday, and have them with us for countless week-ends. Week-ends where they helped Grandpa cook bacon and eggs, giggling as they sneaked the bacon off the plate when he wasn’t looking, wink, and ate it as fast as he could get it out of the skillet. Week-ends of movies and ice cream, sewing and cooking and just hanging out.
As I envision them driving away in a few days, I know I must put on a big smile with hugs and kisses through streaming tears. The last thing I want is for their last vision, as they pull away, to be of their Grandma crying hysterically, even though I know my knees will be buckling. I’m praying for God to give me the strength to get through this. I count my blessings that they are healthy and loved, and that we had them so close for so long.
For years my friends who have grandkids that live far away have told me how lucky we were to have them here with us. Maybe I took it for granted because I never saw this coming. I could only imagine their pain. When a few months ago my son closed my office door, sat in a chair across from me and told me they were leaving, I thought I was having a nightmare. I’ve never cried so hard as I have the last few months. I even considered suicide, and then thought about missing everything in their future, not just the day to day things.
It feels surreal. But the reality is, they are going. They’ve thought about it a long time and dreaded telling us. I’m sure it was one of the hardest things they’ve ever had to do. But now, the house is sold, they’re packing, and it’s really happening. The moving van is in the drive-way. They’ve packed almost everything including my heart. 
Grandmahood is wonderful, but at the same time, it’s like riding an emotional roller coaster. After all the years as the parent it’s difficult to move from the driver’s seat to the backseat and feel completely out of control. But that’s where we are supposed to be, because we are not in control. We had our time. We must pass the reins. It’s time to do an about face and look at our own future.
Finding your place as a Grandma is important for healthy and happy relationships for everyone involved. When you become a parent, your role is clearly defined. Grandmahood is more complicated. We have to learn to respect the decisions of our kids who are the parents now and the way they choose to raise their children, while at the same time being there to help, when asked, if our schedule allows.
Being the best grandma in the world is probably the goal of most grandmas. Sharing our legacy, teaching our grands about things in the world, or to do things they will always remember, like sewing, cooking or going to musicals drives us. Introducing them to life. But we have to be careful not to step on the toes of the parents, like interloping on things the parents look forward to introducing them to or giving them special things that parents had planned to give them. Every parent has their “first” list, for example taking them on their first plane ride or giving them their first bicycle. There are boundaries when you’re a grandparent. I’ve even read about grandmas who have taken their grandkids and cut their hair or gotten their ears pierced without the parents’ permission. Maybe these grandparents don’t understand where the line is, or even worse, maybe they do but they want the glory.
Years ago, there was a lot written about the perils of trying to be a Supermom, the mom who wants to be everything to her kids, home, husband and job. The discussions often focused on these moms not being able to step back and allow their kids to do things for themselves and learn how to get up when they fall. More importantly, the underlying message was about the need of women to be needed and seen by their kids and others as Supermoms.
The last few weeks, I’ve been reevaluating my relationship with my granddaughters. Is it possible to be too close to your grandkids? I don’t think so. You can’t love them too much but, know your role. You’re not the parent. Sometimes that’s hard. Have I been trying to be Supergrandma to them? The answer is, probably yes. The question is why. The reason is need. I love them so much and want to be a center of their world. Not the center, but a center. I want them to come running with hugs when they see me. I need to be needed. The truth is that they’re the center of my world, not always the other way around.
Just like when you were a parent, you will be a center of their world when they’re little, right after Mom and Dad. But soon they start growing up and other things, like their friends take over that coveted spot. They’d rather be with them than you. Didn’t you do the same when you were growing up? Just remember, life’s a cycle with a series of changes as they grow up. You’re not going anywhere. They know that. 
The reality is, I was a great mom. Maybe a Supermom. I was so great that I taught my kids to be great parents. Now their kids love them and want to be with them and do fun things with them, as a family. They’re excited about this new adventure with them. They trust them. They are a unit. Not that they don’t love the time we spend together, but that’s Grandma time. Did I shoot myself in the proverbial foot? Of course not. I wouldn’t want dependent kids that can’t take care of themselves or are not responsible parents. As they say, be careful what you wish for. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I did do a great job raising my kids and I have to step back now and allow them to do a great job raising theirs. And they are. They are truly wonderful parents who not only love their kids, they love each other and are wonderful examples.
It’s time for me to let go, gracefully accept the role I’m in now as Grandma and focus on our own life, recognizing that our Grandkids can still be our world, just not our whole world. My husband and I are both reevaluating our life together and working on developing new interests of our own, separate from the grandkids. I’m still in that manic-depressive stage of excited about it one day and crying the next. Make that one moment.
We’ll see them often and are even working on getting a house in Tennessee, being careful not to crowd their new life, so they’ll all be able to have a Grandma and Grandpa house close by. After all, you can’t cook and sew in a hotel, and we don’t want to impose on our kids and we would love having our own little getaway. It’s beautiful there. My oldest granddaughter has already told me to keep her sewing machine here when they move and bring it to our new house there. That may be like the possession a mom leaves at the daycare the first day she drops off her child, the security that let’s the child know that Mom will be back to get them. She also asked if she could have her own key to our Tennessee house when we get one. Hmmmmm.
We’re trying desperately to start our own new adventure, planning on short trips and lots of fun times with friends.
God works in mysterious ways. Our oldest son and his wife who live have a baby boy on the way. Gus. After seven girls, a boy! Well I raised two boys but I may have to recondition my mind back from pink bows to firetrucks. And I can’t wait.
Just like kids won’t understand being a parent until they are one, our kids won’t know what it’s like to be a grandparent until they get there. I know, because I didn’t understand how my parents felt when I took my kids and moved away either ….. until now.
Writing is therapeutic. Poetry is my way of expressing myself and putting stories into words. I wrote this Poem to my son to communicate how I feel. As upset as we may get as parents, our love for them is never in question. I’m wrapping it as a gift and sending it with him to Tennessee. A piece of my heart.
