"Nana's on the Moon"
Eating humble pie.
This past weekend was an incredible bag of mixed emotions as we took on our first ever together overnight babysitting charge.
The list goes on as our grandchildren arrived Friday, recovering from coughs and colds, and we, daily recovering from aches, pains, responsibilities, etc., refrigerator, cupboards all stocked with various grandchildren things, pets re-organized, brushed and moved into different comfy places (like the horrible calico cat that despises children & anyone that isn’t us), floors vaccumed (despite it being completely non-sensical), dusting achieved, low cupboards on lockdown, bedding changed and all appropriate distractions and breakables mitigated.
As I held our youngest grandchild, two year old Violet, most of Friday, struggling with a chesty cough, tough as nails, asking for water through sad tears, I wondered how on earth my parents did this for us. For a week at a time, on a few occasions, with our three children, the youngest being three. One of them took off work as well. Of course it was never perfect either. Someone was always recovering from something or shifting in behavior. I felt extremely humbled, as our daughter explained in an excitedly repetitive nerve driven mode all the little details I couldn’t quite take in as her calm husband shuffled her out the door, saying everything would be okay. Compared to the half sheet note we were left, I believe I left a 3-ring binder manual (I mean it was a week? and our two oldest went to school, played sports and did activities? and then there was the three year old with temper tantrums? and every single detail in-between…)
I thought to myself, my mom and dad were truly exceptional to do this for us and they did it well. Both supporting each other with school schedules, meal schedules, bedtime routines and activities that they also threw into the mix, just because they loved our kids so much and wanted to do special things with them.
Remembering the times I would put my oldest two on a plane to spend magical summer weeks, where my parents retired on the beach in Oregon… and every single Christmas with them, camped in their RV, in our driveway, all the fun of ripping open a camper full of presents that they brought with them (tax-free).
They wanted a more affordable life many years ago, when our first two children were the ages of Vi and her brother Asher, five. It wasn’t going to be in California and right now I don’t believe they would have made it here. I also don’t believe my dad would have had the incredible healthcare which extended his life greatly. California is crushing the young and the old. We feel it.
My parents worked really hard to continue to be present and memorable in our children’s lives and they also stole away some of their well deserved later years to live a more healthy lifestyle in Oregon. It wasn’t easy, but we made it work, and in looking back I realize how very blessed we were to have them both. We never did live close in distance, as it was me who moved away first and both of them had well established jobs that were necessary and not transferrable.
What I would give for five more minutes with my dad, I thought, as we bathed our grandchildren, sang songs, read stories, enjoyed meals together and ran all around. I wish I could have properly run down the gratitude list, that wasn’t an overall “you were a great dad,” before-he-passed-whisper in his ear. I wished that he could see us now.
To thank him for supporting us always. For being the first one to call us, seperately, when our marriage was falling apart, to tell us how much he loved us and wanted us to work it out. For the much needed, treasured holidays John and I took together. Also for saying how much I understood the pain he dealt with his whole life.
I was blessed to call my mom, during naptime, this weekend, to say thank you, thank you, thank you. Again and again, 30 years later…. I am eating humble pie.
While bathing the kids Saturday night, Asher said, “I want to stay longer and not go home for a lot of days.” Violet, feeling much better after a 12 hour sleep Friday night, was splashing and laughing and I responded, “well, if you stay with us for a long time then you might have to come with Nana to the moon.” He said, “what’s that?” I said, “I’m doing a fundraiser for “Nana’s on the Moon” and if I get to go you might have to come with me?” to which my husband, John laughed and said, “that’s hilarious, Nana’s on the Moon, sounds like a thing you should do!”
Maybe it should be “Nanas and Papas on the Moon.” I can see it on the news now. The grandmother who stepped up to raise her grandchildren, the grandfather who served in a war, now babysitting weekly, reading books, shaky hands. The list would go on. Smiling ear to ear inside of their spacesuits. Moon walking, weightless… some who will never have a third act with their spouse, after raising children together. Some who will never stop working but manage to be there when they can.
It will be a few days to recover. The pain of terrible arthritis, busted knees and squished back bones are reminders of a life lived, gratitude and perseverance. I can’t let it get to me. The early morning rise to the construction grind, for John, is met with a packed lunch, coffee and a 15 minute reflection of those little voices and faces. “How adorable are they?” “The house is so quiet” “Did you see her never ending smile?” “I’m so happy she went home feeling beter” “He’s so smart!” “We are blessed” “I’m going to miss them” “I need a nap” “I appreciate parenthood” “How did we do that?”
To all the moms and dads that did their best, and are doing their best now. To the ones that became grandparents, made special time for their grandchildren and gave grownup children some babysitting, a date night, a weekend away, or a week-long holiday, I tip my hat. That’s more than a lot of young parents get. Many struggle to pay for daycare and never get breaks. We didn’t have any kind of day to day or week to week support, except for the occasional teenager to give me a child-free grocery shopping trip (and that was heaven!).
When the house was quiet at the end of Sunday, we smiled, floated about our chores, and drove to a local brewery, reflecting and enjoying this season together. It’s a most precious, balanced time of loving each other better, new goals, fellowship with friends, creating and rewards for making it this far. It’s how it should be and we are so grateful.
To the moon and back we go.
Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. - C.S. Lewis
I really enjoyed reading this as it took me for a lovely stroll down memory lane. I am so lucky to be able to continue the joy as a great grandma, or Grand Nana as I was christened by one of them. I only wish my husband could be with us to see this next generation blossom. As it was, he managed to last long enough to see the first number of months of 3 of our great grand babies. Thank you for giving us this unmitigated joy.
Oh my friend, How so timely (again!) I always told my three kids I love you to the Moon and Back and Forever and Beyond! Robin and I still say it, the last two weeks especially. I will never get the long term joy of Grands. Robin's second marriage gave me two for 5 years only to lose them when they divorced after her miscarriage last year. I was Gigi for those wonderful years. I still miss them, I always will. They weren't Blood but I loved them like they were. Oh I have my Bestie's two that I love and can spoil, somehow it's not quite the same. You are blessed and I am so very happy for you. Miss Violet is so adorable and so smart! oxoxox