Another beloved family member. She may not be with us any longer, but her influence and love always is.
A Grandmother’s Greatest Gift
My sons enjoyed the benefits of growing up with two grandmothers. My mother is a typically loving and attentive grandparent. She spoils and fusses over them in all the ways that grandparents are notorious for, but this story is about the boys’ other grandmother; my former mother-in-law.
Grandma Hansen was also loving and generous. Through both of my pregnancies she would accompany me to my doctor appointments, perfectly content to sit in the waiting room with her latest trashy romance novel. For weeks following the birth of my firstborn, there would be a knock at precisely five o’clock each evening, Grandpa Hansen would be on our doorstep with a cardboard box holding the dinner Grandma had made for us. If the boys came down with a bug, another cardboard box with crackers, Jell-O and 7-Up would be promptly delivered. Added to each box was every “Dear Abby” column carefully cut out and folded, that included tips or advice for new mothers.
A trip to the pediatric dentist warranted a mandatory visit to the toy store with Grandma. Her walls were papered with her grandchildren’s pictures and artwork. Nothing was ever removed or replaced she just intermittently added to the mural. Their favorite foods and beverages were routinely restocked in her refrigerator in case they stopped by.
After seven years of marriage and two children, my marriage ended, but my relationship with Grandma Hansen didn’t. After all, she’d been a part of my life for such a long time and as my sons’ Grandmother would always be family. Grandma attended peewee football and later high school football and basketball games. Her pride in her grandsons was apparent to anyone who sat within a ten foot perimeter of her seat in the bleachers.
I called Grandma regularly to say hello and deliver reports on the boys’ upcoming activities and recent antics. She would giggle with wicked delight when I would relay an anecdote about one or both of our roughnecks. Stories of childish nonsense that I’m sure she would have throttled her own kids for. Sometimes she’d make me repeat the story while she took notes, so she could make sure she had it right to repeat later.
When I remarried two years later, there was no resentment towards my new husband; her heart was wide open to the man who became stepfather to her young grandsons. Our wedding anniversary never passed without her best wishes. Her unselfish attitude meant that the boys never felt a divided loyalty. They knew they could share anything without censor. It was one of the greatest gifts she could have given them.
We lost Grandma Hansen a few years ago. She was ninety years old and had grown increasingly frail. During her last year we feared that each visit with her might be the last. We were fortunate to be able to spend time with her before she passed away. She wasn’t able to speak any longer; she just took our hands and held them tight to her heart. Words weren’t necessary. We knew what she was trying to say. We loved her too.
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