What Can I Give A Kid Who Has Everything?
A few days ago I was lost in pleasant memories of times spent with my grandparents. As I’ve recently become a grandparent myself, these memories hold a particular importance because they inform the way I might create memories with my own grandson Hunter. As I pondered my memories of my time with my grandparents, I uncovered a few surprising revelations.
Because my parents had moved several hours away from my hometown when I was just four, I didn’t get to see my grandparents as often as I would have liked. When I was old enough to do so, I spent part of my summer with my mom’s parents. It was during this time that some of my most pleasant memories were born.
When I visited my mom’s parents, they didn’t try to entertain me, but they unknowingly did so. I was captivated by the life they led that was quite different from my own. Though I lived in a small town at the time, my grandparents’ country life was even simpler than mine, and it was filled with exciting things like picking wild berries, playing in a creek, and carrying drinking water from a natural spring.
My grandma made the best apple pies I have ever tasted. She bought the most delicious corn on the cob from roadside stands. The summer harvest brought delightful garden beans which she allowed me to “snap” with her.
My grandfather worked in a sawmill and carried a metal lunch pail. He ate fried potatoes every evening for dinner. After watching the nightly news, he ate a single bowl of (always just) vanilla ice cream. He loved oranges and taught me the “right” way to peel one — using his pocket knife, of course!
Even the strangest things were amusing to me, like when I had to use the outhouse and had to bathe in a metal tub! Though I was curious about it at the time, I’m now glad that Grandma had the consideration to send me indoors before she cut the head off a chicken that we would be eating for dinner.1 ;)
Even though I grew up quite poor and my grandparents were as generous as they could be given their own limited resources, I was surprised to realize that I could not remember a single gift that they gave me. This is particularly striking since I received many, and because gifts is one of my primary love languages.
What this trip down memory lane taught me is that what I used to think was important is not what I now remember or cherish. I didn’t need toys from my grandparents. I didn’t need them to take me to Disney World. I didn’t even need my grandparents’ constant attention. I just needed to be a part of their world for a time.
When I think about my interactions with Hunter, I sometimes worry. I’m not a typical grandma. I never had kids of my own; and, to a large extent, I have no idea what to do with kids. But I suppose that my own grandparents didn’t know what to do with me sometimes, either. ;)
Looking back now, perhaps the single most important thing that my grandparents gave me was allowing me to see them as they were, in their own world, living a life that made sense to them. They were simple folks who lived authentically and didn’t apologize for whatever they might have perceived they couldn’t do for me.
In a world dripping with fakeness, my memories of my grandparents stand out. Perhaps my nostalgia unduly biases me towards remembering the positive aspects of that time, but I cannot think of a single bad, sad, or uncomfortable memory from the time I spent with my mom’s parents.
This leads me to wonder what my grandson will remember about me when I am gone. Will I do as well as my grandparents did?
My grandson is rich with material possessions. His parents provide for his every need and then some. Hunter probably has more toys at his current age of three than I had during my entire childhood.
He’s rich with family, as well. Including me, he has a total of six grandmas (and that doesn’t include his great grandma!). He has several grandpas, aunts, uncles, cousins, and even more in his extended family.
Given his abundance of love and material possessions, it feels like there is nothing left for me to give Hunter. But thinking about my own grandparents made me realize that what I can give is the most important thing that my grandparents gave me: their authentic selves.
When I’m dead and gone, I hope that Hunter remembers that his Grandma Tina lived authentically, doing things that brought her joy and that she didn’t apologize for being the crazy woman she is. Perhaps the greatest gift I can give Hunter is in modeling a life that teaches him how to live authentically, joyfully, and fully in each moment.
If my grandma had allowed me to watch her butchering chickens, I would have probably become a vegetarian much sooner! ;)