The Heartbreak of Mothering that Your Grandmothering May Fix
Joys and heartbreaks
I think I was a wholly unmindful mother to my little ones and I carry that guilt.
Growing up at the time that I did was confusing.
It was impossible to figure out what you wanted to do with life, options were so limited, or at least the ones I knew about were.
There was the conditioning of what was expected of you alongside the urge to fly with no idea how that flight could be achieved.
Marriage was said to be the escape. But really you were still looking for a man who ticked all the boxes and that person would be just like all the men in the family.
Responsible and with a good job and ready to settle.
Settle! That most disturbing word.
Settle for the humdrum, settle for what’s expected. Just settle! How does life get lived by settling?
Well, I settled. For a lovely man, who was my friend and we had fun for a bit. Until the settling required babies. So they came along and were delightful and I loved them dearly.
But lord was I unsettled.
I’d had it with being settled.
I was drowning in a hole of settlement.
I wasn’t being either a wife or a mother.
Perhaps I was still trying to be a good mother and I’m sure I did some things right because they grew into lovely young people. But you know how you remember all that you could’ve and should’ve done? Well, that haunts me.
Unfinished mothering sometimes sinks me like a stone.
The considerations, the patience, just the nurturing of small people, and the mindfulness they require. With my little girls till they were older; I didn’t know what I was doing and how to do it.
I got better as we all grew older. I became happier because I flew. I left the settling and the humdrum and took a chance at life the way I wanted, which is another story. Being more able to cope with my life, I think gave me a chance to mother my children better. All of which worked.
However, I still had those early motherhood memories and if there were some way to take back those years and have a do-over, I would jump at the chance. But life doesn’t offer reversals.
I thought Grandmothering might give me a chance for some redemption.
Along came this tiny bundle whom I fell wholly in love with. For the first few months of his little life, I was the caregiver for both him and his little Mommy, who’d been through the pregnancy from hell.
Then Mommy got better and baby grew bigger.
Grandmother became redundant and a bit of a nuisance.
According to the young mothers that I have encountered, we didn’t know the first thing about the mindfulness of bringing them up. I’m comparing notes with friends and it’s heartening in some way, to find us all in more or less the same situation. Like a therapeutic AA meeting.
They have it at their fingertips, they’ve read up and studied it, and are applying it.
So, there goes the do-over.
Your advice is old-fashioned, your purpose limited. That is a hard, harsh, very hurtful lesson. And every grandmother of my era is learning it.
We don’t live close. So I choose to go visit. A visit is welcome for a very short time, then please find some distance. You could choose to live close by and you may visit at convenient times.
That was the first lesson.
‘ Hi Darling, I’m in town, should I come see you tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow we go for music in the morning and then I may take him for a swim in the afternoon. Maybe you come the day after — he’s free between 3:30 and 5:00.’
Wham! it’s a punch to the heart and shreds it.
You’ve traveled miles and days. You want to be there from dawn to dusk and participate in every aspect of that little life. But that was wishful thinking.
Quickly accept, understand or rationalise. They have lives to live and regimens to follow. Fall in line.
Get to be that mother that you couldn’t so you can be the grandmother that is acceptable.
Now, I am trying to find the mindfulness to understand the needs and expectations of this grown-up child of mine.
That I will be on call at the drop of a hat, is a given, no matter how hurtful a past encounter has been.
I have devoured all of the stuff that the ‘net’ has to offer about raising children: what to feed them and when. How to talk to them. Acceptable words, UFF! it’s a learning curve for sure.
My children grew up on Nestle products and of course, I had no idea there were words to use and not. Dr.Spock, that only Bible available to us mothers, was a nightmare in hindsight.
My grandson is growing up a gourmand who is offered an assortment of delights, all wholesome, organic, fresh grown, and cooked. He is spoken to in thoughtful words.
I tiptoe around the two of them, petrified of being ousted by the wrong word or deed.
How to talk to them, what it is allowable to say and what not? What kind of presents may you bring? Best to ask first.
Grandmothers beware.
The old order, where you were sought out for experience and passed-down wisdom is somewhat lost.
Do your research. Child psychology, pregnant child psychology. Not sure if there is a book on how to be a grandmother. Maybe once I master it, I’ll write one.
What is a delight to watch is my daughter doing an amazing job of mothering.
Somewhere it salves those sores in my heart. Those of the mother and the grandmother.
About Pavane Mann: Wandering is what I have done best, which introduced me to people, places, experiences, adventures, and great learning. I have been a youth and corporate counselor. Been a part of the amazing International Outward Bound fraternity, changing lives for youth worldwide. I write because it is my best mode of expression. You can find more at www.pavanemann.com if interested.
