One of my favorite things to do is read the Sunday morning newspaper. Recently, while leafing through the pages, I found the following, “The Working Grandma,” written by Kevin Harnett of South Carolina.
Now, the fact that a man was writing this piece about women didn’t surprise me at all. What I did find surprising was his surprise that grandmothers have been holding down full-time jobs while being caregivers to their grandchildren. Duh … nothing new here, buddy-boy. Harnett’s article was light on details, but it did manage to weave in some important comments, like grandmothers are sacrificing their retirement money to provide necessities to grandchildren. That, of course, is not good. In fact, it is troubling to note that many grandparents are bankrupting their own futures for the sake of their grandchildren.
A quick trip around the internet provides sobering facts. The U.S. census in 2000 estimated 2.4 million grandparents were involved in caring for their grandchildren, including sheltering them. By the 2010 census, that number had blossomed to 7 million. Grandparenting is so common that there are numerous government and private agencies geared solely to providing them with support services.
Harnett’s story didn’t seem to appreciate that grandmothers are essential in so many ways and that this is already common knowledge. That is the story.
In his article Harnett writes, “But working grandmothers? That’s a category we don’t talk much about. Perhaps we should.” “The perception people have is that grandma doesn’t have a job, she’s baking, she’s happy to have people over,” says Madonna Harrington Meyer, a sociologist at Syracuse University,” from whom Harnett quotes. Meyers wrote, “The real thing is grandma’s working and still taking care of her grandchildren.” Further noted in Harnett’s piece, Meyer investigated the challenges faced by working grandmothers for a book she has written in which she interviewed (only) 48 women. Meyer apparently explained to Harnett that the “biggest surprise to emerge from her research was that working grandmothers exist at all, at least in the large numbers that she estimates.” Large numbers! Now that is an understatement.
Okay, let’s stop right there for a moment … I need to calm down. A spiking blood pressure at this age isn’t good. I can’t believe that anyone at this time in the history of human development would be “surprised” that women in great numbers are grandmothers and are still working and are supporting their growing extended families in a multitude of ways.
Throughout the ages, women have been doing what women do best: ‘multi-task’ tirelessly. Oh, sure, we bake, we sew, we bounce babies on our knees, we might even sit in rocking chairs humming a hymn under our breath while we embroider little lambs across an infant’s smock … but underneath that shawl are muscles that have been built from years of taking care of business – outside and inside the home.
Deep cleansing breath – I worked and took care of grandchildren. I’m still working and taking care of grandchildren, albeit not at the pace I once did. Their parents are running hard just to keep up with the demands in their lives, so having a grandparent – or, more specifically, a grandmother to fill-in for the parents – is the only way many thousands of families are surviving at all.
I would not have been able to work as a young single mother had it not been for my own Mother and her generosity. She took care of my son and my sister’s children so we could work. She cared for her grandchildren through sickness and health. She played with them, gave them sandwiches cut in fun shapes, sang silly songs at the top of her lungs, changed numerous diapers, and gave them unconditional love until the very moment of her death.
My Mother’s grandchildren cried her a river when she passed away last winter. She was eulogized as a fun, kind, unique woman they will never forget. I will never forget her either, but not because of her mothering skills with her own children. Those remained a work in process her entire life. Putting that aside, I’ve elected to focus on the love she gave her grandchildren, because in the end, that was her greatest work and she did it expertly. If she could read Harnett’s article, she would wonder where the heck he has been living to be so ignorant of real life. And as for Meyer’s surprise that grandmothers aren’t just sitting around quilting, my Mother would have a few choice words for her. Although my Mother did not work outside her home, that she worked inside her home and found the time and energy to care for a revolving door of grandchildren speaks volumes to her familial commitment. She believed it was her duty and experienced it as her singular joy. And yes, in the real, world millions of grandmothers are earning a paycheck, too.
About seventeen years ago, one of our adult married children found himself with a bit of a problem. He needed to work overnight shifts, not arriving home in time to take care of his infant daughter before his wife left the house for her job. There was a two-hour stretch at dawn where they needed someone to take care of their baby girl: Enter a working grandmother. Without hesitation, I volunteered to stay with the baby until our son came home from his shift.
Each morning when my services were required, I’d wake up at 5:00 am. I’d hang my corporate attire in the car, get myself groomed, and then head out in sweat clothes for my babysitting shift. By 6:30 am, I’d be sitting by the crib of my sleeping baby granddaughter, eager for her eyes to open. That precious moment when her eyes would fix on my smiling face and she would respond with her own toothless little grin was heaven for me.
For the next hour or so until her Daddy came home, the world was ours to share. Counting, A-B-C’s, reading stories, patty-cake, hide-n-seek were the stuff that made those early mornings complete. When Daddy came home, I’d do a quick change, morphing into a marketing manager and head to my office.
Many times I’d find myself feeling quite sleepy by noontime. I became well known for taking lunchtime naps in my car. But I didn’t care – the baby needed me and, in retrospect, I needed her. The time spent in caring for that infant often was the only good thing to happen to me all day. There is no doubt in my mind that such relationships help sustain other grandmothers. By the way, that baby is now a college freshman.
We have five granddaughters in total. Three of these lovelies we took care of while their parents worked. One is still an integral part of our daily life. All five have benefited from having a grandmother who not only was able to provide some extra material support but also ‘be there’ in any way necessary. I am not unique in this category. My friends who are grandmothers have all done what I have done and continue to do so.
Sure there are folks out there whose stories are ones of extreme sacrifice. There are grandmothers taking in grandchildren because the parents are deceased, in jail, sick, or otherwise unable to take care of their own children. There are grandmothers taking care of their own mothers, working full-time jobs and watching over grandchildren – a trifecta. For a time, I did that, too.
But here’s the thing. One doesn’t dwell on the long to-do lists associated with taking care of others. You just do it and try to do so with as much kindness as your tired soul can muster. I never knew my grandmothers, but there sure were times when I could have used one. I am, however, externally grateful I had a mother willing and able to help shoulder my burdens by taking care of my son, her beloved (could do no wrong) grandson.
To the Harnetts and Meyers who have never been exposed to working grandmothers before deciding to explore the subject let me say this: It would be great if everyone on the planet had the resources to be totally free of needing a helping hand – that isn’t real life! Real life is messy at times, certainly challenging and in great need of grandmothers who can rock the cradle while emailing a corporate executive the spreadsheet she prepared for an international conference call. Or, better yet, a grandmother who after a day juggling demands and expectations at the office, picks up her granddaughter from daycare and heads home to play dress up.
In the book Three Cups of Tea by Gregg Mortenson, he wrote, “…a porcelain pendant around her neck read ‘I want to be thoroughly used up when I die…’” Me, too.
I wouldn’t trade one second I’ve spent taking care of my grandchildren. When I’m too old to be useful, sitting in my rocking chair humming “How Great Thou Art” and reading the Sunday newspapers, I sure hope I hear the echoes of their little voices, a reminder I was once their working Grandma.
By Marilou Newell
