What’s your relationship like with your grandparents?
My grandma passed last weeek. I’ve been thinking about my relationship with her and my other grandparents. My family and I visit them on holidays and they were nice enough. But I don’t feel like I knew my grandma or know my other grandparents.
I think my family is weird maybe? Idk it’s the only one I know lol. We’d talk about tv and movies we’ve watched recently. What they watched. Tell the grandparents what was going on in our lives. Ask about what was going in grandma and grandpas life. Mostly get answers like “same old same old”, tales of doctor visits, or NCIS.
But like who are they as people? What were dreams when they were young? what adventures have they been on? what sparks joy in their life? What struggles have been through?
Like if I had to describe my grandmother I’d say she was a nice, pleasant lady who was mostly kind and liked cats, but not enough to get her own, just fed the neighbors cat. A description a stranger could give after meeting her talking for a bit maybe.
Looking back at my relationship with my grandparents, it all feels surface level. I never shared any of the hard shit I was dealing with, never really vulnerable around them. They were never vulnerable around me.
I don’t know many details of their life beyond career, maybe the places they’ve lived, pets they’ve owned.
Maybe that’s a reflection on my parents. We were never really vulnerable with each other about stuff, when someone was it was often mocked. My parents were not good parents a lot of the time. Who knows maybe that’s a result of their parents?
But umm yeah, Lemmy what’s your relationship like with your grandparents? Are you real close? Do you know them well, or more like a coworker you enjoy occasionally small talking with? Or rotten shitbags? I wish I knew my grandma better.
Three died before I was born or old enough to remember. The fourth was basically no relationship once I became an adult because I am not close with extended family that has always lived half a country away from me. She died during the pan, saving me from having to disappoint my mother by skipping her funeral.
I’m relatively close with one of my grandmothers. It gets in the way that she tries to be a matriarch of sorts, with a bit of distance, but I know a few things about what her life has been like anyway. It helps that stories get passed on through my parents.
One thing that’s surprisingly helpful is knowing recent history in general. For example, I never thought of her as an immigrant kid when I was growing up, and I don’t think she’d refer to herself that way, but that’s exactly what she is - just a product of the people who I now know were immigrating then, instead of the ones immigrating now.
It was fine until I grew up and realized how bitter and racist my grandmother was. Almost felt nothing when she passed.
Well they are long deceased, since the 1990s at least. My paternal grandparents were shy people who didn’t have much use for children, they took me as a toddler to the mall once, and because I seldom had their attention I was full of beans trying to make them laugh and like me, and they found that too much. It was like they were old before I was born really, not like these younger grandparents people have now. They were both gone by the time I was a teenager. My maternal grandparents; my grandfather was an alcoholic for most of his life, your typical Irish leprechaun type of drunk, and only quit because his doctor told him it would kill him, and my memories of him are him shuffling around the house in leather slippers listening to the radio or reading the news. My grandmother was a miserable manipulative ring-tailed bitch with no friends who lay on the couch moaning about how sick she was, which she was not, and spending most of her time trying to pit her daughters against one another, which ultimately worked as they are basically all estranged. They had few interests and did not get along and slept in separate rooms. The only time she was interesting was after she had a stroke and became hilariously demented and said some absolutely outrageous things. None of them ever attended any of my activities or did anything to help raise me or anything like other grandparents seem to do now, and seemed to expect that they were to be taken care of now that they had retired. I can’t say I missed any of them when they died because they were such a vague presence in my life. They were not particularly successful and had almost no interests.
