Many people are fortunate enough to have great relationships with both sets of grandparents. Others aren't as fortunate. Some people are lucky enough to be spoiled by their grandparents. Others aren't as lucky. Few of us, yes I am including myself, are blessed to be the favorite grandchild. Maybe it is their unique ability to have us believe their world revolves around us. Maybe they make us feel so special that we create a reality that convinces us that we are their world. Whatever it is, I felt that I was the reason my grandmother opened her eyes every morning. It was great having someone that I could always count on to have my back. You know, the one voice my mother had to listen to. Yep, even when I was dead wrong. The only problem with truly believing you are the reason another person wakes up is one day at least one of you doesn't wake up. Then what? If you're anything like me and over analyze things, there are many questions left unanswered by this tragic happenstance.
On many occasions I have felt as if life threw plenty of shit in my direction. I often felt that not only did I have a bad hand, but maybe an entire deck without spades. Something was wrong. How could I always get the short end of the stick (whatever that really means)? Many years later, I view things differently. After maturing. After recognizing the benefits of being forced to handle adversity. After I no longer accepted my own excuses. After I began to get it. Who knew she had a bigger plan for me? Who knew the long road trips in which we talked about nothing until I fell asleep served a purpose? Who knew she expected me to accomplish things that she couldn't fathom? My grandma, that's who. Before my grandmother was chosen to reunite with her late husband, she helped set the path for me to be the man I've since become. I feel there are still several accomplishments not yet reached, but they will be in due time.
How much of me is her? Did I attend college an hour from her Maryland home because I had once lived there with her? Did I learn to navigate from New York to Maryland in my sleep (sometimes literally) because I had accompanied her so frequently on that same journey. Did I start buying property mainly because I always felt if she was able to do it with all of the barriers that were present, I had no legitimate excuses not to do the same. Over a decade has passed since I lost my grandmother and I am still learning about our relationship. One thing I learned quickly after she passed is that I really miss her. Maybe I'm nuts, but I honestly believe she misses me as much.
So, being the favorite has plenty of perks. I had my favorite meal prepared anytime I wanted. Unless Murder She Wrote , 60 Minutes, or Matlock were on, I was able to control the remote (okay...we didn't have a remote but you get the picture). Being the favorite also comes with plenty of pressure. I often felt the need to meet her expectations. Even when Alzheimer's entered the picture and she may not have remembered the expectations she set for me. In some ways the pressure has progressively increased because she is no longer physically with me. I recognize my growth and maturity. Because of this, I feel the bar to please her is that much higher. Maybe this is all my weird way of looking at things. Maybe I need excuses to pursue goals. Maybe I am just a bit confused because love often clouds our vision.
Whether you're the favorite or not, cherish time spent with those you love. The one thing you lose and can never find is time. Although I have no regrets regarding the time spent with my grandmother, I do regret not having more of it. In my opinion, the worst thing about being the favorite is I often think I hurt the most.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Every time I accomplish something I thank my grandmother. I did not grow up with her, I only visited during the holidays. I was not her favorite, just another grandchild.
ReplyDeleteI can see her now, walking with her arm crossed behind her back. I can hear her, yelling on top of her lungs for me to come home but I would want to continue playing with my friends.
She preferred her male children, she loved her male grandchildren. However, she could not help but share with all of us her strength. When I am faced with a mountain it is her name I call, when I am blessed I thank her for her guidance. There is something to be said about living a life that is filled with dignity and strength. I am who I am today because she loved me. I am driven by a desire to make her proud and to ensure her legacy lives on.
Her name is Esnath....
Oh my god, if you remove a couple of statements, this could be about me and my grandmom. I thank God everyday that I still have her in my life, although she is in an extended care facility due to her stroke, and it's hard for me to understand what's she saying at times, but I still enjoy our time together. Even when she gets in one of her moods and just curses at me the whole time I'm there, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. You were your grandmom's favorite, I'm my grandmom's only...
ReplyDelete