A friend emailed me this morning about a few things, but one issue on her mind was how she sees less and less of her grandchildren as they are growing up. They have classes, athletics, their peers and babysitting is no longer a connection. She advised me to treasure my time with my new grandson, because the time when we really matter is brief and mainly pre-school age. I've already discovered this, and my own memories of my grandparents are mostly when I was very young. But those memories have stuck with me, and I believe they shaped me and my view of the world. So I try not to cling to my grandchildren as they have a wider set of connections. I know I represent something to them: unconditional love, support and admiration. I'm imbedded in their hearts, but their minds and bodies are too busy to much notice. I'm fading in importance but forever in their memories.
Our children need us in the early years of their parenting, but as they learn the ropes, they gain confidence, and eventually they soar on their own. We've seen them tired and overwhelmed and now they want to see themselves as competent and masterful. And we want that as well. Our job seems to be to be that silent support and encouragement that acknowledges their skill. So as their children are breaking away from us, so are they, and we, as ever, are to be left behind to wave.
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