grandparents

Becoming a grandparent makes getting older something to look forward to - all the fun of parenting, without the hassle.

My Irish Granny
"You want me to do what?" I stopped short. I was yelling at my frail little gray-haired granny with her coronet of braids and that lone little whisker hanging from her chin. I'd always wanted to just pull that strange black hair out and tried once as a child. She slapped my hand, and I never tried again. There she was, rocking slowly in that chair padded with what looked like dozens of quilts. It was a big chair and she would be lost in it otherwise. I softened my voice. "Granny, I don't understand why you would want me to do that."
By Kathy Parish5 years ago in Families
Alone or Lonely
Alone, Sara sits in her grandmother's attic. Tears flowing as she reflects over her life and the past year that led her to be in this moment. With so many people out of work and so many loved ones dying, 2020 had been a hard year for everyone. Sara is feeling like she can not catch a break.
By Kristy M Sorrow5 years ago in Families
Who Knew?
“Find her.” These were the last words my grandfather said. Then he fell face forward into his food. “Dave,” my mother finally said. “Your father’s dead.”
By Gil Lian5 years ago in Families
Grandmothers Gift
The year 2020 … boy, what a time that was. The year of a pandemic that caused a global shut down. COVID-19 was a newly discovered airborne virus. Everything was shut down to ‘flatten the curve’ as they said. All concerts and major sports had been cancelled. Restaurants and local shops closed their doors. Borders shut down keeping all flights grounded. Everything ceased in what felt like a moments notice. This virus was spreading like wild fire, killing those infected at an alarming rate. Many had already lost their jobs. Some were forced to leave their job and stay home to take care of their families. Those who had a job, were accommodated to work at home as much as possible. High school seniors had to finish their grad year online and forfeit a graduation ceremony. University courses moved to online only. Even kindergarten moved to online check-ins once a week. COVID-19 saturated the media. The world’s top doctors came out with new information daily about the dangers and unknowns of this new virus. They claimed the symptoms matched that of the common cold or flu. If you had any symptoms you were to self quarantine in your home for 14 days. It was a dark and grim place.
By Calla Lily5 years ago in Families
Peter's Little Black Book
“I have been listening to sad songs in the shower these days” Peter murmured softly to the cockroach, who had just emerged from a small gap in the corner of the living room.
By Natalie Sandy5 years ago in Families
He Existed
I never knew my grandfather. He was killed in the war when my mother was but a child. There survive no photographs of him, no physical evidence that he ever existed. My mother’s only enduring memory of him was a man in a uniform, who kisses her crying mother, then kisses her, then walks out of the front door of their home and never returns. She only told me this when the dementia had all but consumed her mind, and she no longer recognised me as her son. Her own mother never spoke about him, her grief at having lost her husband absolute, and she confessed in me, a stranger to her now, that she had always resented her for it.
By Ian M. Williamson5 years ago in Families
Anna's Little Black Book
Anna Wilson received her first little black book at the age of eleven. It was a gift from her Grandfather. It seemed an odd present in this electronic age, but an important one Anna would later learn. She, was a studious young girl, tall and willowy and he, a white haired man from the old country with a glint in his eyes when he spoke. Anna looked displeased as she opened the gift but quickly caught herself and smiled. “Thank You Grandpa” she said. Her words slightly disingenuous. Nothing could get by the old man, his eyes and ears may have lessened but his attention to the moment was unsurpassed. “May I tell you why I gave you that notebook Anna?” Grandpa asked, “Sure” Anna responded. “That notebook is an important tool for you to use in your life. It needs no batteries, no cords and no updates. Its pages are blank for a reason, to make room for your potential, yes, your potential. When you get a good idea, write it down. For ideas are peculiar things, they travel through the world looking for just the right person to bring it to life. If it’s not written down or acted on their memory quickly fades as they seek out another who will act upon it. Good ideas are worth capturing and writing down just as a person’s life is worth documenting. Do you understand?” Grandpa asked. “I think I do” Anna replied. “One more important thing, you must always keep it nearby at all times. Ideas are tricksters that like to pounce when you’re least prepared.” Grandpa laughed.
By Jeff Henningsgaard5 years ago in Families
Secrets
The sky was a deep grey with clouds rolling in as a warning of the storm to come. A light mist had already started and the tiny water droplets seemed to just hang in the air. As if time had stopped in this very moment. The weather fit the occasion perfectly. After all today was my grandfather’s funeral.
By Anna Yarbrough5 years ago in Families
Spells & Prayers
Tulsa, Oklahoma - June 1, 1921 Charles sat with his body pushed all the way back into the corner behind the heavy Davenport sofa. His feet were tucked tightly against his bottom, his back was hunched over, and his chestnut brown hands gripped a black, leather notebook only a shade or two darker than his own skin. His face was pushed close to the page as he read the strange words in a frantic whisper, more like a chant. He could still smell the oil soaked into the cowhide of the notebook’s cover as well as the scent of the crisp, new pages. Most of the words were in English, but he was still able to read the few words that were not. He started at the top of the page and read to the bottom and then started again back at the top, just like Granny had instructed. A sharp kitchen knife was hidden behind the sofa as well, within his reach.
By S.E.E.S.5 years ago in Families
Hello Nanna
Hello Nanna – Sonia James “Hello Nanna”…”Hello Sonia”...”I am sorry I have not seen you for a little while”…”It’s okay Sonia, it’s ok”…”so how are you Nanna, are they treating you well?”…”I no like it Sonia…but no complain”…”Oh wow, you have the exact same hibiscus tree outside your bedroom like I do Nanna”…she smiles. She then asks if I want a tutsa teh – a cuppa of tea – a mandatory offering when visiting in her own home. I nod in acceptance and she gestures and says that we need to go into the dining room. Her room in the nursing home was pleasant enough but Nanna was always a strong independent woman whose house was always filled with the smell of something simmering away on the stove, morning, noon or night and the nursing was a far cry from her reality. Nanna was my fathers’ mother.
By Sonia James5 years ago in Families
Dear Summer,
The sun melted behind the buildings while the clouds grew gray and wild. It was a humid summer day and my sister Shannon and I were on my way to my grandparents’ house. My grandparents’ house was our sweet escape. No overprotective father or overworked mother but grandparents that welcomed us warmly and appreciated our presence.
By Mercy Sadè5 years ago in Families
When you need it.
My grandmother was an eccentric woman. She had a small quirky shop full of dream catchers and other crystal magic and spellbook memorabilia. She often shared stories of supernatural encounters which were entertaining but very clearly exaggerated. I loved my Grandmother very much and spent most of my time in her small shop, listening to her stories and observing the interesting people coming and going.
By Maria Lane5 years ago in Families