The truth is that I’m a much better grandma/Mémé than I was a mother. I was good at times and decent at others, but working full-time, living with a workaholic self-employed husband and my own tendency toward perfectionism made me too edgy and emotional. My parents saved me by smoothing out the rough edges and spending lots of time with their granddaughters; my grown-up kids are now realizing that their dad could afford to be laid back and calm because he wasn’t dealing with anything: school and other schedules, cooking, cleaning, laundry, appointments, etc. My older daughter has asked me, “How in the world did you manage?” I don’t know! Parenting does take a village though and now I’m part of that same support network for my own daughters, especially the younger one. Don’t get me wrong–my husband deeply loved his children and helped out with them to the best of his ability, but he wasn’t around as much as I would have wanted due to his obsession with work. However, when I gave him dates for various activities, he was always there; he didn’t miss choir concerts in spite of his dislike for choral music, he attended ballets which he hated, he sat at many gymnastic meets in different cities and states, and he helped out with every science project his daughters had. Day to day stuff was just not his thing.
The bearded irises he bought are starting to unfurl!
He wouldn’t necessarily approve of my taste in annuals although he loved petunias. He preferred violet purple ones, not this “black” (dark purple) color that I couldn’t resist.
Here’s one of my lantanas, showing off its multi-colored blooms.
I have no luck with begonias but hope I’ve found a shady enough spot for this lovely one.
I’ve been with all four grandsons the past couple days and it’s been fabulous! The youngest one is full of smiles and giggles. He’s so cuddly.
Yesterday, Obro and his mom and I went to lunch and then shopping. He loves the Hulk and wanted this whatever it is badly; I’m thankful my daughter said NO WAY. It’s creepy, isn’t it?
I got my Ireland swag from Rick Steves and will soon be studying the guidebook and learning all the history of Ireland. If you believe that, you don’t know me very well! I’m all about the experiences–with some background and history thrown in, but I don’t need to know every detail. My late dad used to worry about not remembering the facts and characters in books he read, especially as he got into his late 80s and early 90s. I had to remind him that there would be no test and that he was meant to enjoy the information, not get a degree in the subject.
Tomorrow I’m planning a trip to the cemetery for several reasons. It’s my late brother Doug’s birthday, Mother’s Day and the one-year anniversary of my mom’s memorial service. I’ll take carnations and can almost hear my parents’ voices in my head, “Don’t waste your money on flowers!” However, since they’re dead, I’m obviously not doing it for them; it’s for me. They were such excellent and caring parents, and it helps me to remember them with love.
I learned today that a blog friend I’d been close to had died. I was shocked and saddened; looking back on it, I hadn’t heard from her in a month or so. But how does someone die that quickly? Then I started feeling guilty for not checking in and keeping more in touch. I will treasure this mandala she painted for me and our face-to-face chats when my Older Daughter and she lived in Los Angeles. I hope she is finally at peace.
In her last message to me on March 21st, my friend wrote me this:
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