Being a Grandmother

I now have grandchildren. I was sixteen when I had my first child and was thirty three when I had my first grandchild. At both times I was afraid. I had a childhood with little adult direction. Most adults back then were lost and in pain. The children were like a gang family on the street at night when the parents passed out from the weekday party. I remember sitting on a step with some girls around my age, 7 or 8, and their siblings. We sat watching the falling stars and enjoyed the stillness - quiet - of the night. We laughed and held our little sisters and brothers while they slept. The sun would come up and uncover the reality of our world.

There is no bitterness or hate toward the adults back then. I did carry alot of shame for what I could not prevent and protection I could not provide for my siblings or even my mother. All I knew was it would be different and the pain would stop with me.

Becoming a mother changed something in me. My mind would revisit the city condemned white house I lived in as a child. I wanted the world to be different for my daughter. I knew enough to realize I had to be different. In some cases I see now I might have been a bit over protective and could have been more selective with my friends. Yet, it is that world that kept me safe when I needed. I stepped away and it wasn't easy. I left behind my friends and the life that sheltered all our pain. As semi-adults we now had families and had to grow up. I had to face the world without the crutch of drugs or alcohol. The bits of memory that had been locked away slowly began to seep into my day. Being a mother wasn't the challenge. Learning to be human with emotion was.

When my first grandchild was born I cried. It was amazing to watch as my baby brought to the world a little human. They both struggled for so long to meet each other. My world would forever be changed in this next season of my life journey. He had the right ammount of fingers and toes. His cry awakened something I couldn't recognize but it felt right. My daughter with her beautiful and forgiving heart was still scrambliing in her life to find her place. Her decisions were not based on her role as a mother but as a teenager. In my heart I believed it was my responsibility to step in where where the mother could not be. We battled back and forth fighting for who could care for him better. He cried and watched as we battled. Finally one day, a woman told me the story about the two women who fought over a baby and a king said to them he would solve it by cutting the baby in two so they could share. One woman said the other could have the baby because she did not want to see the baby hurt. The king gave her the baby. I understood. I stepped back with an aching heart and let my daughter keep my son in the chaos she was living. Within weeks she called and committed to letting me keep her son, my grandson. He has been with me since. I am close with my daughter and she has three more children.

In our traditional beliefs the grandmother plays an important role in the lives of the children. My children rarely had their grandmother in their lives. Just like I rarely had her in mine. So it was new to me but natural for them. I am a mother, grandmother, and woman. What a life I have been given. A clump of coal to diamonds story.