Use The Force Granny

I was eighteen when I stood next to my sister and watched her become a married woman. She was in her twenties and very much in love. It took roughly six months before I began to hear people asking either her or my mother about future babies in the family. Both of them weren’t keen on the idea. And in a methinks the lady doth protest too much manner, others insisted that both my mother and sister would change their minds. They were sure my sister would be struck by the maternal urge, and my mother would immediately become an overly excited Grandmother at the news.

They were right about my mother.

My childless sister on the other hand, continues to enjoy a good sleep-in on a weekend and is a fabulous Aunt to the little travellers. She had the last babyless laugh.

My mother watched her friends become grandparents and couldn’t quite understand why they had lost their minds. She was bemused while friends shared what seemed like endless photos of new babies, and found herself having to get used to once again having little people (other people’s little people) join them at functions.

And then it happened. Eighteen months after G and I were married the first little traveller arrived. My parents popped the champagne with friends and then drove to the city to see their first grandchild. My mother took one look at the first little traveller and that was it. She became Granny Max or as my friends refer to her Granny to the Max. We had entered a whole new world as a family. In that moment in the hospital room we all became new characters in a brand new play.

And then we did the unthinkable. Eleven days later G and I left the country – with Granny Max’s first born grandchild.

I have had many people feel the need to tell me how they couldn’t “do” our expat life because they couldn’t “do” that to their parents.

I understand their position, probably more so when it’s not said with enormous judgement.

In the old days I used to explain that we were living in Perth before we began traveling overseas. I reasoned that if we were still living in Perth we would both be working and be limited to school holidays and sharing our trips between Queensland and Adelaide. That was in the old days, I don’t bother explaining anymore. I usually make a crack about Granny Max needing a good few months to get the house back to its original state after we leave. Which actually isn’t a joke, it’s true.

Expat life has provided some amazing opportunities for time with our parents. We’ve hung out in foreign countries, climbed temples, wandered through old churches, sat in cable cars, and looked out over the bay in San Francisco. You can spot expat families in a crowd, they’re the ones looking just a little bit freaked out that they are all together so far from home. My mother has been with me in Jakarta, Kuala Lumpur, Libya and Canada. G’s family have wheeled strollers and visited parks and maternity wards in Canada, Malta and Malaysia. For the first ten years of our expat life aka our PB years: pre beach house, I lobbed at my parents house for weeks and occasionally months with very small children. My mother has a shed which is loaded with bikes, sandpits, helmets, car seats, and whatever my children have left behind from their last visit. Her house begins to resemble a well stocked daycare centre when we land in Australia.

Expat life has meant that although Granny hasn’t been able to do a set Tuesday night babysit or an every Sunday for lunch she has been able to have the other option, the I’m going to come and live with you for a few weeks option. This means breakfast, lunch and dinner along with nights filled with wine and long chats. These are our memories.

During the week the little travellers made a video for Granny, it was a short and sweet Happy Birthday. The eldest little traveller “directed” and the cast cleverly just did as they were told. Granny tells me she has watched it about eleventy billion times since Sunday. The invisible power of a grandchild – they are mini Luke Skywalkers sharing the force between them. As they call out to her from the screen – use the force Granny she is completely lured by their binding, metaphysical, ubiquitous power.

It doesn’t matter where you are, grandchildren and grandparents don’t work in miles or locations. They can be galaxies apart. The force will always be there.

Comments

  1. Beautiful. And very true.

  2. Agree agree agree!

  3. Agree agree agree!

  4. QUALITY over QUANTITY: We don’t have the same distance you do, but similar situation. In fact, EG Grandma (my mum) was last here for 24 hours – passing through, but still major impact (EG Dad is still wistfully remembering how much laundry she folded in that 24hrs). I grew up in a military family, so similar scenario. What I remember as a kid is quality not quantity. When my grandparents visited, or vice versa, it was the utmost mischief against the parents in the shortest possible times. True bonding. Sure, we missed them – but there was always a deep appreciation for the special time we did have (even before skype and cheap phone calls). My kids have the same fun now. They spend time on skype planning with the grandparents what mischief they will get up to, and then squeeze it into whatever short visit they can nab. In a couple weeks, EG Grandma is visiting for 48 hours (work trip). Already there have been two phone calls with the spawnlings. Prepare to defend yourselves…

  5. Beautifully written as usual. Totally agree with the sentiment. Grandma, yourself and the kids have quality time.

  6. My daughter had her first child in Venezuela and I had to get my head round the fact of being a long-distance grandmother. He would grow up with Spanish as his first language and I’d be that odd woman on Skype.

    I was hard, getting my head round that. Grandparenthood is such a joy – and it is hard being so far away. (Though I never thought of my daughter ‘doing it to me’ never entered my head – she has as much right to make life choices as I do).

    And then I hit on the idea of writing him stories and poem – particularly for Christmas and birthdays. I would then have an identity – something to hang his understanding of ‘Grandma’ on. Which worked – it gave us both a meaning.

    (Then she came home, other daughter had babies, that daughter had twins … and grandma is still expected to produce stories and poems. But there are worse ways to be a grandma!)

  7. Agreed! With our choice to emigrate to Australia we effectively “abandoned” the two granny’s. One in Ireland. And one in wales. We have had to adapt to a different type of family interaction and mini video messages are currently proving the most popular. We have fun recording when the kids are in a good mood. Whoosh the video across the miles when grannies sleep and then they get to press play when it suits them (and over and over and over!)

  8. Love it! I really can relate. xx