Thursday, 18 November 2021


Wow, my 17-year-old grandson graduated from high school on Wednesday. And my 8-month-old grandson has just learnt to crawl. I only have two grandchildren—so far. My daughter’s teenager and my son’s baby. Both have carved out a place in my heart.
Therefore, this is going to be a bit of a rave about them and, if you’re not into hearing about other people’s grandchildren, stop reading now and wait for our next blog. 
The 17-year-old’s entry into the world was definitely up there as one of life’s profound experiences (see poem) and I’m thrilled to be one of his elders—to be Grandma Fair. The gap before another grandie arrived was long and my intro to this second chap was different but still an arrow to the heart.
It’s not just the sharing in their lives that is so special, it’s the knowledge that just as I look behind me to my parents, grandparents, etc. I can look forward to these two boys carrying a bit of me into the future. 
So as I face up to my life being finite—that there’s an end coming up down the track—I have this wonderful assurance that I’ve been a brick in the wall … that just as I recognise that I have certain characteristics of family who have gone before me, some of me is continuing in my grandies. Mmmmm … just hope that what I’m passing on is high-grade stuff that I’m doing my bit in ensuring they have a strong foundation. It’s not like when I was parenting children but it’s still a responsibility. 
But, as I see it, this responsibility is mainly to have fun with them … to shed some of
that grownup posturing and do kid stuff again, to get down on the floor, to be in the world of make-believe, to be silly, to treat them. And when we do have to revert to our grownup personas with them, it’s only temporary. Their parents can be the sensible ones.
Of course, this is a great approach when the grandies are young but when they are teenagers … ?! The promise of an icecream doesn’t have quite the same pull with a high schooler as it does with a toddler. It wasn’t that my teenage grandson shunned me, it was just that his own world was expanding and I wasn’t at the forefront anymore. Playing computer games with his mates became his idea of fun. So how to connect? 
Well, teenagers still need things like getting to places cheaply, and what better place to have one-on-one time than driving a teenager to his mate’s place. Whenever the text request arrived from my grandson for a lift to J’s place, I jumped at the chance to spend a half hour—just with him. It wasn’t that we had great in-depth chats or anything. It was just nice. 
But this stage also passes. They learn how to drive or can pay for their own uber. And it’s new territory again. 
But then you witness new connections. How can a 17-year-old resist the charm of an 8-month-year-old … one that smiles with delight at you and pulls your nose, and gurgles with glee in the safety of your hands. Melting moments indeed! Fiz
My two grandies


Poem written after my grandson's birth ... 6:17 am 14 January 2004
Blood          pain
Fierce primeval energy
As he wrenches himself from his mother’s body
The top of his viscid dark head emerges
Miranda grips Blair’s shoulders as she squats
Her body
completely overtaken by his urgent need for birth
convulses awesomely as his head bursts out
dark violet blue
his features packed flat for the journey
One white shoulder slips out effortlessly
and he emerges fully
exhibiting his magnificent genitalia
and gangling legs
Still a terrifying blueish hue
he begins to cry
and his body becomes suffused with healthy pink
In one practised movement
the midwife raises him to Miranda’s arms
Exhausted she leans back against the half raised bed
And gently cradles him
My grandson has arrived

1 comment:

Adele said...

Loved the poem! No sure whether a 17 year old would like his grandma to read it to him though! So happy for you as you enjoy these two precious grandsons.