I know I’ve written about my Grandma Jean, and how much she means to me before, but I’m going to do it again.
She lives with us, so Rowan gets access to his Great Grandma daily. They are the best of friends and the worst of enemies. They love each other like siblings, and they fight like siblings. My Grandma is almost 91, and she’s reverting back to her childhood in a lot of ways. Emotionally they are pretty much on the same level. Great, as Rowan calls her, likes to tease Rowan. And he likes to react. I often have to go into Great’s room and break up a fight, sort out an argument, or untie my son from my Grandmother’s walker. I kid you not. What Great lacks in physical strength to ward off a two year old, she more than makes up for in mad knot tying skills.
He keeps going back though, and I know they have some special connection that he’ll never have with another person. He adores her, her stash of candy, her boxes of little knick-knacks, and her computer that is solely for playing Scrabble. Rowan sits on Great’s lap, and they make up words, and spell things that he shouldn’t know, and that she doesn’t remember that he shouldn’t know.
This morning I was walking Gram through her regular morning routine, that she never remembers how to do. I got her to the bathroom, made her breakfast, got her into her chair and went to let the dog out. I left Rowan with Great so I could chase after the dog, who ran across the street.
I don’t know what chain of events led to scene that I returned to, and I don’t want to know. I was laughing too hard to even think about taking a picture, but I’ll do my best to describe what I saw.
Great was sitting on the floor in her nightgown, no teeth, no hearing aids, no glasses, and no bra. (You should know that my Grandmother is rather well endowed up top. She likes to say that she knows she’s old because her chest is in her drawers. Yeah, not that funny coming from your grandmother….) My son, on the other hand, was desperately trying to get a hearing aid to stay in his left ear, he had a set of teeth in his right hand, a pair of old lady glasses balanced on his tiny nose, and a bra that he could literally curl up and sleep in, draped over his shoulders.
I’m an outsider in their little club, so I didn’t even bother inquiring about the goings ons between those two. I just trust that Rowan will grow up with a respect and love for the elderly, and a sense of humor that will get him out of (and let’s face it, into) a lot of sticky situations.
I dread the day Rowan saunters into Great’s room, declares his presence, and isn’t met with a toothless old lady welcoming him onto her lap. Until that day, I will allow all the crazy antics those two want to partake in. I may roll my eyes, sigh with exasperation at my two “children”, but not for one second will I not feel incredibly grateful for her presence in both our lives.