It used to be “Baba Day” when I was known as Baba. Baba was a name I cherished because Luca made it up for me and the day he amended it to “Gramma” was a dark day for me indeed. I got over it, though, because no matter what he called me, I was going to respond.
Gramma Day was the day—or days—I got to spend with Luca mostly because one or both of his parents were working. They started when Annie got her first job after Luca was born: one day a week working for a food writer a couple of towns over. As her jobs changed, so did Gramma Days, but we’ve had at least one a week for the last ten years or so. And there usually were several more; when they lived with us every day was Gramma Day!
And, as Gramma, I get to spend the kind of time with him that is parenting on a different level. Still vigilant, but less stressed. (Says me.) And that’s been pretty much the status quo since that boy was born. It’s not that I gave in to whatever Luca wanted, but let’s be honest—if there was a request, I’d probably fulfill it. Cookies for breakfast? Why not? An extra hour to stay up and watch a movie. Of course. A little “help” buying another package of Pokémon cards? Well . . . ok. I don’t think I ever flew in the face of his parents’ rules and expectations, but I might have bent some of them sometimes.
And when I’m with him, I can put aside all the stuff that occupies my mind and be in the presence of the wonder of life. The wonder of seeing the world through the eyes of a child and the opportunity to be in touch with what’s important: love. This also happens when I’m with my two other grandchildren Maddie and Aiden, but in the last six years, we’ve only been able to visit them a handful of times. Being in Arizona is tricky enough, but the pandemic kept us apart, too. I long to be able to spend more time with them in person, because the last time we were there, they had the same effect on me that Luca does. Pure joy.
Now, with my days so—weird—with all that’s going on and all that we’ve been through, I continue to be in some constant state of something. Am I waiting? Or am I anxious? Is it stress or fear? A combination of all of it? When I think to myself, “If I could just . . .” it’s usually something I already can do. Like make my own schedule. Do work I like. Enjoy being in my own home. Be available for my family.
So, today—that last thing happened, an unscheduled school pick up and an afternoon back at my house. Did I have some work to finish? Yep. But did I drop it for an unexpected Gramma Day so I could hang out with this human who can turn my mood on a dime.
How could I say no?
Absolutely every word! Nonna is the best gig I've ever had or could ever imagine. It's beyond comprehension to me when people have the opportunity to spend time with their grandkids, but opt not to. I'd give my eye teeth--the expensively crowned ones--to have grandkids live closer.
Love this! I love being a Nana to my twin granddaughters. ❤️