In Grandma’s presence my color disappeared. I wasn’t her adopted grandson, or her black grandson. I was her grandson who inhaled her homemade chocolate and her chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies she made from scratch.
Grandma always wore an apron as part of her daily dress code and I followed her around her small Cleveland kitchen like she held the keys to Disneyland in her apron pocket.
When we were cooking, or playing the board game Parcheesi on her dining room table I loved hearing her say anything with her thick German accent. The way she said, “Oay” when the game didn’t go her way made me laugh inside.
I remember one special Christmas when she came to visit in Detroit. Grandma would always take the Greyhound bus from Cleveland to Detroit when she came to visit. Our whole family would all pile in to the car and make the trip downtown to pick her up at the busy bus station.
The night of her arrival on this special Christmas we had a crisis in the upstairs bathroom. Although he denied, it I think my brother tried flushing a 1/2 a roll of toilet paper and the toilet went on strike. When a family of six, now seven with grandma, loses one of only two toilets in the house it becomes a crisis.
Sitting in the living room below the upstairs bathroom on the coach with grandma we could hear Dad frantically operating on the obstruction. By his tone and colorful language it was easy to see the surgery would need more than just a plunger and Dad’s elbow grease. Dad hollered down instructions for me to call the neighbor and see if they had a toilet snake we could use. Because our family was so large and the budget was so tight, calling a plumber never entered Dad’s head.
I called my best friend and his dad agreed to send over the snake. Dad was relieved and he was confident he would be able to snake out the toilet and the sun would then rise the next morning
I answered the knock at the door and I quickly ran up the stairs to present dad with “the snake.” In my hand I held a large funnel duct taped to a two foot section of a garden hose. It was not the snake Dad was looking for. Dad began to slowly erupt as he grabbed this thing out of my hand. I rocketed back down stairs afraid I would get hit by the shrapnel once Dad explored.
On the living room couch sat Grandma in tears. The tears flowed down her soft and wrinkled cheeks and off her chin. She was laughing so hard she was crying. Safe by her side ,I joined her and we cried together laughing hysterically as Dad wrestled with the toilet one floor above. The rest of the family joined us as we all looked at “the snake” that was now at the bottom of the steps trying to figure out what our neighbor was thinking when he sent this over.
I fought for breath in between the laughter and seeing the laughter explode out of Grandma made it even funnier. The laughter was further fueled by Dad’s ranting and swearing at the neighbor. There was something safe and delicious about laughing at Dad with Grandma. I knew I couldn’t get in trouble because to yell at me he would also have to yell at Grandma, his mother, and I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
About a year later, Grandma got in a minor car accident and was taken to the hospital to get checked out. During the routine tests, they found Grandma had liver cancer, then they found it was in her lungs, and soon after that they found it was in her brain. Two weeks after the car accident, we buried my dear sweet Grandma.
She never got to see me blossom in to a more confident me. She never got to see results of the seeds she planted in me. Grandma was special because not all our relatives were comfortable with me being a part of the family, but Grandma was and she had unlimited access to us. Those who were less comfortable only came around infrequently and by invitation only.
Mom and Dad understood the importance of controlling the people who touched our lives and sometimes that meant not letting other relatives have access. The great news was this meant more time with Grandma who died decades before someone that kind should.
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Do you have the need to control the access to your family? If so, how do you manage it?
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Oh Kevin, I’m starting to think we are spiritually connected somehow! Your grandma sounds so much like my “Nana” except that my Nana had a thick Maltese accent! And, again, your timing couldn’t be better. Today is the 10th anniversary of my Nana’s passing. My cousins and I are all scheduled to drink tea… the way she used to make it (with canned milk) today at 1pm. I’m going to share your post with them. I know it will touch them as much as it touched me! Thanks AGAIN!
What wonderful memories. We have had to limit time spent with certain family members. It has created tension between myself and my extended family but they are not my main concern anymore. My children are the focus now.
Rachel,
Enjoy the tea!! It is great to share the special things too. Some times I think I get so focused on the issues of adoption that I don’t celebrate the wonderful connections made through adoption.
Fortunately and unfortunately, we ended up moving away from all of our family. We don’t have to deal with the constant stress of limiting time with particular members of family, (which would definitely be necessary but very tricky) As it is, we still have some drama every time we come to the area for a visit. But the kids are also missing out on those everyday relationships with grandparents and family members that WOULD be beneficial. Though when Nana or others visit for a week, they get “concentrated” time, that I am hoping will leave the same impressions and relationship that you experienced with your grandmother.
Yes we need to control the access within our family. But I haven’t yet figured out how to go about doing that. This post really hit close to home for me. Made me realize just how important it is to try and spend more time with those that have been accepting and not try and change the ones that haven’t. But boy is that hard to do when some are close family members.
Thanks!
Kevin, we are fortunate that my mom is a lot like your grandma, and my mom lives right on the same block (by choice). Our son knows that Grandma loves him unconditionally. We had an episode with two of his aunts and one cousin during their visit to Omaha a couple of years ago. Both of my sisters are denying the racist element (of course), and we have had to limit access to protect our son. That’s actually pretty easy, because they live far away. Thanks for writing about your dear grandmother!
Timely question! I just wrote on my blog about controlling access strangers feel they can have to my children. More specifically their intrusive questions. I have tried by example to have my children see that because we are obviously different looking, does not allow people to invade their space or personal history. Here is my blog post on this topic if you are interested. http://mylifeincolor-cathee.blogspot.com/2010/03/black-and-white-wednesday-brothers-and.html
Thank you again for sharing. What a wonderfully beautiful grandmother! How blessed to have the time you did and she made that time count.
My son is so blessed to have a Grandma like yours. She doesn’t see color or her adopted grandson she only sees her grandson. The love and friendship these two share is amazing to see and be a part of. Sounds like you also had love and friendship with your Grandma.
Yes! We definately control access to our family in regards to my husband’s family, specifically his parents. They were less than considerate when we married and presented us with laundry lists of why they were displeased with our union. None of them scriptural so we discounted each one and learned to distance ourselves from them.
Further distancing came when, at a family reunion, I was speaking to a distant cousin about one of our homeschool “classes” which was A Kid’s Guide to Social Action. Not listening well and/or not at all “getting it”, my m-i-l shouted loud enough for the entire gathering to hear “OH MY GOSH! YOU’RE TEACHING THE CHILDREN TO BE COMMUNISTS!” We left immediately.
Our contact since that time is on OUR terms…on OUR turf, with the understanding that if they cross the line and questioned our choices as a family, as a married couple or as parents they would be asked to leave. We reinforced that in regards to phone contact as well after my m-i-l called our then 14 year old son and demanded he come visit for a few days even though we had resumed our studies after Christmas. He said he could not until a weekend and that he would have to talk to his parents about when, etc. She went nuts and began screaming at him that he didn’t need our permission to visit his own grandparents, etc. etc. I took the phone, said a pleasant but quick “goodbye” and hung up.
It took standing firm on our part in a quiet and no-nonsense kind of way but it has really worked. When we do see them a couple or three times a year, they are very pleasant and “well behaved”.
They have learned that even if they don’t like our boundaries, they need to respect them if they want relationship with us.
We are so blessed in that both sides of our family love our children unconditionally. They are treated just like the other children. We already have diversity in our family through adoption and marriage, so that probably helps. In particular, my mother and daughter share a special bond. Whenever my daughter gets mad at me, she asks to call “Grammy.” (She’s only two and already knows who to go to for help
.)
I am so sorry that anyone would bring in the “racist element” when it is not there. The child is the victim more than anyone. It’s important to note that some people love unconditionally – but not blindly. It is so sad when people play the racist card to justify their own wrongdoing.