Three months ago I waved my Numero Uno Granddaughter off on her Grand Adventure. I did not want her to go for I knew if anything happened I would not be there to help her. By the same token I knew I had to let her go. If you knew my children and grandchildren you would know they NEVER forget. I could not live the next forty years with her looking at me and saying ‘I could have gone there and done this’ etcetera, etcetera, yada, yada, yada.
Now she is coming home. The Grand Adventure turned sour. I thought at first it was a massive case of homesickness, but her mother (she does talk to her mother) said ‘no’ it was deeper than that.
I am of the opinion nothing happens we cannot bear, and every event in our life reveals something about ourselves. A lesson learnt.
So I learnt how helplessness feels. I learnt you can cry for another person and the loss of their dreams. I learnt how courageous and strong a young woman my granddaughter is. Yes, the little cute child has become an independent woman, and I have to treat her as such.
I hope she learnt something about herself. Things like: how strong she is mentally; how resilient she is; her innate nature; she is a homebody at heart; no matter how well you think you are prepared, reality is quite different; she can stand on her own two feet.
When she gets home, the struggles haven’t stopped. She will need to find herself a job; get a car; pick up her life here at home. And there will be countless explanations and post mortems on what went wrong, and what she ‘should have done’ to contend with.
Will I help her? Of course, what else are grandmothers for? The problem? Time.
Like I said, Life’s a bitch and the learning is painful.
Now she is coming home. The Grand Adventure turned sour. I thought at first it was a massive case of homesickness, but her mother (she does talk to her mother) said ‘no’ it was deeper than that.
I am of the opinion nothing happens we cannot bear, and every event in our life reveals something about ourselves. A lesson learnt.
So I learnt how helplessness feels. I learnt you can cry for another person and the loss of their dreams. I learnt how courageous and strong a young woman my granddaughter is. Yes, the little cute child has become an independent woman, and I have to treat her as such.
I hope she learnt something about herself. Things like: how strong she is mentally; how resilient she is; her innate nature; she is a homebody at heart; no matter how well you think you are prepared, reality is quite different; she can stand on her own two feet.
When she gets home, the struggles haven’t stopped. She will need to find herself a job; get a car; pick up her life here at home. And there will be countless explanations and post mortems on what went wrong, and what she ‘should have done’ to contend with.
Will I help her? Of course, what else are grandmothers for? The problem? Time.
Like I said, Life’s a bitch and the learning is painful.
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