So You Want to Be a Golden Grandparent
By Phyllis Gunderson
Three little boys spilled from the front door of my daughter’s house, heading for a car that had just pulled up to the curb. “Grandpa! Grandpa!” they yelled. An older man exited the car and stooped, with arms outstretched, as the boys leaped into them and onto him. The tumble of bodies fell to the ground, rolling briefly in the grass until the man called “uncle.” He stood, dusted debris from his pants, and then noticed us observing from the porch.
“You don’t just get this for free,” he said with a shrug. “You have to earn it.”
It was true. None of the other uncles, aunts, and grandparents arriving for the birthday dinner had been greeted with such enthusiasm. We were given polite hugs, small hellos, and cursory smiles, but nothing approaching the proportions of the affection lavished on the man who had just joined us. After dinner, I cornered the “golden” grandpa and asked what he did different than the rest of us. “I don’t know,” he said; then, he thought a second. “I guess I just love them.” The anemic statement wasn’t helpful. I loved them, too. I’d come to the party. I’d brought a gift. But he was doing something different, all right, and refused to share. I smiled and nodded blankly as I drifted to join the other guests.
Searching for Answers
I realized then that I wanted to be an adored grandparent. Over the next few weeks, I asked friends and even acquaintances for their opinions. “Is grandparenting the same as parenting?” I asked them. “Is there a natural bond that exists like when you were parents?”
Virtually all of them said no.
One grandfather of eleven thought it was similar to parenting—only better.
“How is it better?” I asked, hoping for details.
“Well,” he answered, “as a parent I made mistakes, and I wish I’d done things differently. I was too busy to really focus on the child hanging onto my leg, but as a grandparent I can redeem myself, make amends. It’s a second opportunity to do it right this time.”
“What would you change?”
“For example,” he began, “when you’re a young parent, it’s easy to ignore the child in order to do projects you find pressing. But when you’re older, you can change that pattern. For example, I take time to let my grandchild hammer on a board next to me while I’m building something.”
His wife added an example. “I was building a fort over the clothesline with my five-year-old grandson and he said, ‘Do you know why I love you?’ ‘No,’ I said. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you play with me.’” She continued, “When I was a child, I never thought my own grandparents loved me. We’d go in their house, get a pat on the head, and then we were ushered outside where we had to stay while the grown-ups talked. I promised myself I would never do that to my grandkids.”
“So, what do you do now that you’re a grandma, besides build forts?”
“Kids love getting things in the mail. I like to send a Happy Box full of silly things. It may cost five dollars in postage to send two dollars worth of junk, but its treasured junk. Also, when they come to my house, they see their artwork on the wall, and their photographs in an album. Their parents appreciate it, too.”
Her husband added his philosophy. “Grandparenting is a privilege, not a right,” he said. “You can violate the privilege and estrange the child if you’re not careful.”
“In what way?”
“You can’t discipline your grandkids the way parents can. Even yelling at them cracks their trust in you.”
I protested. “But you have to protect yourself.”
“If they’re at my house, they follow my rules,” he explained. “But punishment for infractions doesn’t go much beyond simple time-outs.” He thought for a second. “You know, there should be a guidebook for grandparents.” I told him I’d buy one if he’d write it.
I knew another couple who seemed to be golden grandparents, and I asked for their advice.
“Involve yourself,” they both agreed. “Be part of their lives, go to their schools.” I figured this couple knew what they were talking about, since their grown grandson had invited them to Disneyland for old time’s sake. “Find joy in your grandchildren,” they said. “Don’t miss it. It would be sad to be a grandparent and not take advantage of this special time.”
Less Enthusiastic Grandparents
Some grandparents I talked to, however, aren’t such big fans of time with grandchildren. A few grandkid jokes surfaced.
“What are the most beautiful lights in the world?”
“I don’t know. Tell me.”
“The taillights on your children’s car as they’re leaving with the grandkids.”
Another one: “I love to see them come, and I love to see them go.”
There was even a couple who actually moved so they wouldn’t have to baby-sit. “We spent thirty years raising kids,” they said. “We’re finished.”
As people retire, some look forward to complete control of their time and schedule—unhampered by the demands of children. But the price may be high.
Carpe Diem!
One wise old man had some profound things to say. “There’s a period in a young child’s life when grandparents are not just important but actually vital. Then, the time comes when they don’t think they need an older influence anymore. All they see is your wrinkles. Unless you’ve established yourself early in their lives, the window closes. Carpe Diem (Seize the Moment)!”
I knew he was right. I’d lived abroad for several years and, returning home, decided to get to know my older grandchildren. I started by taking two of the teenagers to dinner. We stared at each other across the table. They ate quickly answered questions politely, and waited anxiously to return home and connect with their friends. I’d missed the boat by not connecting when they were young. Their other grandma is still adored. While I was sending glittering gifts from Thailand, she was giving the gift of her time--hosting sleepovers in her trailer, telling them stories about when she was a little girl.
One of the people I interviewed was an eighty-eight year old great-grandmother with a hundred and one assorted progeny. She hears from them regularly. A grandson with five kids of his own calls every week.
“I know it’s him,” she says, “because he always begins by saying ‘Hey! Are you still alive, you old fart?’ I laugh, he laughs, we talk.” She must have done something right.
An Unofficial Guide for Aspiring “Golden Grandparents.”
My interviewees helped me compile the following list of guidelines:
1. Grandparents have responsibility without parental authority. Try not to lose sight of that fact.
2. Sometimes parents do give grandparents authority. Try not to use it.
3. Grandchildren need to know their grandparents’ rules, but punishment is best from parents. When they break your rules, don’t yell. Breathe deeply and put them in time-out.
4. Golden grandparents don’t rule, dictate, guide, or interfere with the way their children are raising the grandchildren. They support. “You can be a consultant,” one grandfather said, “if your grown children ask. But they won’t follow your advice, anyway.”
5. Write your life story so your grandchildren can know you as a real person. If they ask you to tell a story about when you were young, you’ve arrived.
6. Keep treats in your pockets for the grandkids to find.
7. Most importantly, grandparents that make a difference find ways to show their grandchildren that they are valued and loved just for being themselves.
Let me tell you how I learned that last one. A few months after the “golden grandpa” experience I mentioned at the beginning of this article, my daughter hosted another family event. I saw that same grandfather greeted in the same enthusiastic way. I cornered my daughter during clean-up to ask what she thought her father-in-law did to receive such love from her children. “He must spend an enormous amount of time with them,” I commented.
She had to think a minute before she shook her head. “It’s not about time,” she said, “or about gifts and activities.”
“Then, what DOES he do?”
“It’s not what he does or doesn’t DO,” she replied. “Sometimes he lets the kids take turns going with him on errands, but a trip to Wal-Mart to buy a few trinkets isn’t what it’s about.” I winced because I’d done that, thinking I could create grandmotherhood with a little time and a few dollars. My daughter continued. “Every time he comes, he sets each grandkid apart to make them know they’re important to him. He may only have one minute to give them, but it’s a 100% minute. It isn’t the time; it’s the love and interest. You can’t fake it. Love is real and kids can feel it.”
I let the words sink in. It’s not about money or time. It’s about how you make the grandchildren feel.
I went home and called my grandson in England. He’s six.
“Tyler,” I said. “Do you know how much I love you?”
He laughed. I laughed. We talked.