As I wrote several times, I struggled for a while to figure out how to communicate with Robin, she lives hours away, and I’m no good on Facetime when it comes to a situation like that. Maria says getting close to people is difficult for me.
I know I’m also not the traditional smitten grandfather (I’m not the conventional anything, I guess) either.
Emma has done a great job of helping me to figure this out.
She took on this issue positively and effectively. She and I are different, but we also share many traits. We know each other well.
She has come up here a couple of times, and navigating New York, and a long train ride with a six-year-old is no small thing. My foot issues and Covid have made travel challenging, but I believe they will improve shortly.
Through phones, visits, photography, books, and art supplies, she has shown me how to stay in touch with Robin, who is intensely communicative and in no way shy. I think I intimidate here, but some straw fights are moving things along.
Emma texted me this morning to tell me Robin is hooked on an Ada Twist chapter book I gave her when she came. I see that chapter books differ from picture books, and Robin is ready for chapter books. Four more are in the mail.
Even if we can’t often see one another, communicating is possible; it just takes some focus and will. Emma says Robin often talks about the farm now, especially the chickens and the sheep and me and Maria (Emma does not like sheep, she thinks they have spooky eyes).
She has memories of us now, which she didn’t really have before.
She and Maria have bonded, and she is enjoying the freedom to range around an ample space like a farm; she can’t do that in Brooklyn. She loves throwing rocks around and building a snowman. And several times a day, she headed outside to feed the chickens.
She loves trying to figure me out. Nobody is going to push her around. I asked her if she wanted to hug me Saturday after dinner, and she said she didn’t want to. I held her hand as she got on the train and offered a handshake. She had no trouble doing that.
We shook hands goodbye. I’m not that touch-me-feely either.
It was a good thing that she could say no to a hug, it stung a little bit, but I appreciated its significance.
Feeding animals empowers children, massive ones like donkeys, and (to a child) she is getting more comfortable around them.
Emma and I are very close; we understand one another uniquely. Our dark days during the divorce have brightened up. I am very proud of her; she loves her husband, daughter, work, and life in Brooklyn.
That is an accomplishment, and I am very proud of her. She is a remarkable mother, and she is raising a particular child.
She has little interest in nature, spiritual pursuits, rocks or crystals, or the animals here. It’s just doesn’t draw her; she is a tough, appropriately snooty Brookynite and proud of it. She isn’t interested in the animals here but is a great dog lover.
She is very drawn to Fate, a fellow oddball.
Emma did soften up once while here; Emma talked about how chickadees are not afraid of people, they will eat off your hand, and she was eager to try it. We filled her hands full of birdseed and held them out near the feeder.
Emma loves taking photos but not being in them, so I respect that and don’t want to make her uncomfortable. She said taking a picture of her holding a hand out for the chickadees was fine.
No luck this time with the chickadees. Zinnia ate all the seeds she could find on the ground.
I beg to differ. You are about as smitten as grandfather’s get. It’s a great thing.
Thanks, Vickie, for your honesty and good heart.
It’s not a matter of being smitten, I’m afraid. it’s a more complex issue for me, and this isn’t the place to go into detail. I certainly love my daughter and granddaughter. I’ve had many issues with intimacy in my life, Maria has helped me greatly to break through, but I have more work to do. We are getting there, thanks to Maria, Emma, and Robin. I don’t want Robin to be the most important thing that has ever happened in my life. That’s not fair to either of us. People tell me having a grandchild is by far the best thing that has ever happened to them. I don’t begrudge anybody that, but it makes me uncomfortable for me.
I want something different and am not yet sure what form it will take. I hope this helps,a nd all I can do is share the process honestly as it unfolds. Thanks for your message, I do appreciate it.
Being a grandparent to me is an honor and an opportunity to share a variety of experience and history. Also, a means to be a compliment to their parents’ child raising mission, without being an interloper. I’ve never had any expectations beyond that. But the rewards of being closer to our kids and grandkids is indescribable. Thanks for showing us this, Jon.
I love that you are making such an effort to find ways to connect. Not everyone is capable or willing to do that. It is such a gift to give your granddaughter, daughter, Maria and yourself. All those memories are stored up. It fills our battery of living life in a thoughtful way. Most people just want to know they are valued for being themselves and you want them to be part of your life. I follow your path in things with such interest. It’s very reassuring and inspiring to see that people can embrace change in themselves and evolve. Keeping the positive bits and doing away with the parts that don’t serve them well. Wisdom takes time to achieve. Be well and keep sharing your journey.
When my inlaws say that having children or grandchildren is the best thing that ever happened to them, implying that is true for everyone, I think (and sometimes say), “Well, you haven’t done anything else.”
Imagine a full life of good work and good play and good love being subordinated to the chance birth, no matter how sweet the offspring are.
Small minded.
I noticed a few days ago you referred to Maria as Robin’s step grandmother. Ok she is but to me that doesn’t fit the joy I see in pictographs Maria and Robin. May I suggest “bonus grandmother “.
I agree, wholeheartedly. My husband is technically a “step” to our six-year-old granddaughter, but he is never referred to as such. He’s just Grandpa. Kids don’t care about all that stuff, anyhow.
Jon,
Good Genes travel well ! Your Emma and Robin !!!!!!!!!!
I had a grandfather who was NOT touchy feely. I loved him and respected him from a distance and my memories of him are precious to me. At a family wedding when I was about 7, I was listening to a circle of men talk and just stood in front of him. He put his open hands on my shoulders; we didn’t move for a long time.
A couple of years later I wanted some cattails for an art project, so my Mom and I drove out to the farm to ask who might have cattails growing in the ditch. Then we stayed and chatted with Grandma for a while. I didn’t notice that Grandpa had left but he came back and sat in his chair in the kitchen. When Mom and I went back to the car, the back seat was filled with what must have been 30 cattails.
As I got older, I heard from my parents that Grandpa has firmly declined the USDA recommendation that all farmers plant from fence row to fence row. His reason was that he wanted pheasants on the farm. End of discussion. He refused to fill in a rather shallow swampy place that migrating ducks often used for a stop-over.
He harvested both birds for the table, properly after and season’s chicks had fledged and could take care of themselves.
When I started getting really interested in cooking, he told my Mom which 5-piece knife set he wanted her to buy me for a joint Christmas present from them to me. She bought the knives and he sharpened them any time I bought them out for the rest of his life.
Like I said, my memories of him are very precious to me.