Grandparenting from a distance.....

Our granddaughter, Eva, who lives in St. Louis, spent a few days with us in early August. Her father was very busy attending a convention, so we did not get to see much of him, but we saw lots of Eva. Over the past year since our return from Mexico, we have spent time with Eva on four different occasions. Not nearly enough, but we are grateful. We learned before she visited that Eva's goal when she came to Minneapolis was to go to the beach, and she arrived with a large blue pail packed in her suitcase. Grandma Juju took Eva to Cedar Lake and Harry and I took her to Lake Harriet.

One night, after a busy day of grand-parenting, we put Eva to bed at 8:30 and tucked ourselves in at nine. I think we were more exhausted than she was. As long distance grandparents, we found our stamina lacking. I kept thinking how fun it would be to have this amazing little child live closer to us. Many of our friends have grandchildren who do live close by, and I am jealous. These friends have all developed grand-parenting stamina and fun routines with their grandchildren, creating deep bonds likely to last a lifetime. Some of these friends even jumped into babysitting their grandchildren on a daily basis, and some jumped out of doing so after a few months.

I had a very close relationship with my paternal grandparents while growing up. My Dad was an only child, and his four daughters became beloved grandchildren to his parents. My grandparents always made me feel that I was cherished and an important part of their lives. When my sister Cate and I were little, we had many routine things we did with our Grandpa and Grandma, things I remember fondly to this day. We ate hamburgers at the Town Talk Diner on Lake Street (which was on the National Register of Narrow Restaurants), and Grandma made us a special tomato soup at her house. We had overnight visits, and Grandma played Chutes and Ladders with my sister and me for hours. Grandpa took us sliding in the winter, and in the summer he took us to a long-gone little amusement park near Minnehaha Falls called Queen Anne Kiddie Land. The park included pony rides, and being the rather timid child that I was, I remember my Grandfather picking me up and putting me on a pony, not leaving my side for a moment as the ponies went round and round. My grandparents were the anchors in the tumultuous, scary sea which was my childhood. Their constant, predictable presence in my childhood lessened the ravages of life with an alcoholic parent.

My daughter's grandmother lived next door to us when Alexis was growing up. For me, living next door to my mother-in-law wasn't always easy, but Alexis loved having Grandma next door. Grandma Alice and Alexis had years of special meals, books, and movies they enjoyed together. They continue their close bond today. It wasn't until after my own mother, Lily, died that Alexis filled me with stories about what a wonderful grandmother my mom was. I couldn't have been prouder of my daughter when, at age 16, she insisted she wanted to speak at Grandma Lily's funeral and play on her violin the theme from Ken Burns's Civil War, the Shogun's Farewell.

The best part of grand-parenting is the knowledge that you can just enjoy your grandchildren, and not have the responsibility of raising them. All the perks, none of the hard work. Many grandparents however, for a multitude of reasons, have to raise their grandchildren, and that is very hard work. Talk about needing stamina! As a grandparent, you are bound to think you know things about parenting that your children don't know. The sorts of things you realize you've learned when you have years and years to look back over: hindsight I guess you would call it. You hope your children will not make the same mistakes you did as a parent, and you work hard to keep your mouth shut when you see your kids parenting differently than you did. You decide to give advice only if asked; and the odds of being asked are slim, which is probably a good thing. Each generation has it's own unique parenting challenges. As Hastings Banda, leader of the infamous Mau-Mau, once said: "We want the right to misgovern ourselves." Which, of course, he did get and made full use of.

One thing I do know about my own parenting is that I did not appreciate my daughter's childhood nearly enough. As a young parent, I always had so much to do and to worry about. When Eva was in her bath every night on her recent visit, I took the time to watch her delight in the bubbles and the toys I had bought her for the beach that she insisted were great when doubling as bath toys. We read lots of stories before she went to sleep, and Grandpa and I had the luxury of having lots of time on our hands to just enjoy her and, yes, spoil her. (She got french fries whenever she wanted them, which was every night.)

I have vivid and cherished memories of my daughter playing her violin on our front porch many an evening during the summer months while she was growing up. One night, when she was in high school, I remember standing in the kitchen listening to her play, and I found myself thinking I wanted these moments to go on forever. I cried then because I knew these days were soon to be over, and cry now when I think of her playing so beautifully out on that porch as the day went from dusk to darkness. The good thing was that I at least had the sense to know that this profoundly simple event was one to appreciate in the moment. Too many other wonderful moments went unappreciated. Grand-parenting gives you another chance to get things right.

And who knows, maybe, just maybe, I will someday have a grandchild who will play violin too. We don't have our own porch here at the condo, but there is a porch just below us which residents share. I don't think the residents here would mind an occasional summer concert played by our grandchild. And if they do mind, well, too bad for them. I will be listening from my window two stories up with tears in my eyes.

Blessed are those who are lucky enough to be grand-parents, no matter the distance.