How to tell a “Grand” person
By Nancy

Take a walk through Salvation Army store, or even a Wal-Mart Store. For that matter, stand back in a corner as Head start opens for the day, at any first grade open house, or at the little guy and peewee sporting events. It won’t take long for you to recognize a “Grand” person. There is a pride absent in “Sunday” grandparents, or for that matter, first–time parents. They are completely unaware of its presence, and don’t realize that it sets them apart. There’s a glow in their eyes when they watch the grandchildren. That is completely unique to a re-parenting grandparent. It comes from the knowledge of what these children have done to rise above the early moments of their lives. It comes from knowing that they, as the custodial (grand) parents have had a part in raising heroes, and that the potential those heroes are showing is probably only a small portion of what actually exists. It matters not that their particular child may never tie their shoes, it matters not that that special child will never win a game or set a record or win an election. What does matter is that child will sing their own song, and dance their own dance on the face of the world; defeating the odds, the predictions, and the fate to which many of their own parents consigned them, because a “grand” person was there.

Few grandchildren arriving at their new home with a grandparent for the first time come equipped with much of anything but emotional baggage, memories of abuse, distrust of adults, and a handful of ragged outgrown clothing. Most re-parenting grandparents are fully aware that it will take a long time before they can do anything about the first issues, for emotional scars are always deep, and memories can’t be washed away with a bottle of baby shampoo. Thus, the first chore at hand is to invest in clothing that will serve them well, but won’t represent half a paycheck. It isn’t that the grandparent begrudges the child decent clothing, but always at the back of the mind is the possibility that the absentee parents will return, load the child in the car along with anything that child has acquired since their arrival at grampa and grama’s house, and disappear into the night. The greatest fear is that the door to their house will become a revolving door, the scene will repeat at some later point, and grandparent will begin the process all over again. That is why they shop at St Vincent De Paul, Goodwill, Salvation Army store, or even at Wal-Mart.

You can tell the re-parenting grandparents by the gray at the roots of their hair (no time in their lives for Lady Clairol or Grecian Formula). Frequently found in groups, their eyes are restless and constantly searching the crowds for someone who may have evil intent toward their charges. It is possible however, that they are searching for escaping charges. They always carry bulging purses or briefcases. If the contents were examined, there would be few of the normal accoutrements that accompany a sophisticated, middle-aged baby-boomer. Most re-parents have wet wipes rather than tissues, crayons rather than lipstick or eye shadow, and number blocks rather than a calculator. Somewhere, usually in the same zippered pocket that holds emergency lunch money, a marauding grandchild may find a crumpled package of crackers or a limp breakfast bar. Now that same grandchild always assumes that the particular morsel of food is his, stored for the eventuality that he may became hungry on the way to soccer practice, dance class, or a therapists appointment. The child is wrong. The grandparent knows that it is the lunch money that is most likely to disappear for extra milk at school, an unplanned birthday gift, or laces for their tennis shoes. The crackers or the breakfast bar are grand’s lunch to replace the one missed when transporting the child to any one of a dozen social functions. 

Granted, none of the ‘parent jobs’ ARE new to parenting. Nor are the parenting duties onerous or likely to cause undue hardships. However, they are new to the Grand’s concept of his own middle years and don’t generally fit with the inner script they wrote for themselves about the time their youngest child left school. A trip to the pediatric dentist is a far cry from a long-planned trip to explore the Bob Marshall Wilderness or to photograph Grizzly Bears catching salmon in Alaska. Sitting in a rented auditorium watching a four-year old in a pink tutu stand onstage and twist her hair somehow doesn’t compare to sitting a New York Theatre watching great actors perform on Broadway, especially when that same grandparent realizes that the cost of a year’s worth of dance lessons probably would have paid for a ticket to a Broadway play.

When a re-parenting adult of the baby-boomer category pulls a sheaf of papers from their briefcase during an executive board meeting they are not in the least upset to find that the accounts receivable page has pink crayon drawings of a princess on the backside. Nor do they become overly upset when they discover that their last sheet of computer paper for the home pc has gone for a good cause…paper airplanes or drawings of castles and heroic knights. When an observer drifts by groups of these people, usually found on the edge of the toy section, bits and pieces of conversation about bodily functions, behavior disturbances, and arthritis jumble together in a pattern that seems oddly out of focus for their age group. The causal observer usually expects to hear golf scores, recipes and snips of vacation gossip blend with in-depth discussions of 401K plans, stock market quotes, and plans for a condo on the beach. Of course, that same observer would expect a grandparent to have immaculately coiffed hairdos, wear hand tooled leather belts, and have brilliantly polished nails, so what do they know? The bottom line is that every child and every re-parenting grandparent has a story unique to them, which they share. The bottom line is that while they may be unaware of the inner glow, every ”grand” person knows exactly what heartaches, what sorrows and what triumphs have combined to create that shining look of hope, caring, and commitment to the future. It is ours.