I call it The Big Disconnect. The prestigious “Lives” essay spot in the back of the New York Times Magazine not long ago included in its writers’ guidelines this helpful hint: “No grandmother stories, please.” Which would lead you to think that, because so many people considered their grandmothers such a big influence, the world was already inundated with grandmother tales.
I am still looking. I do hear the stories, lots of them, from my cohort — the new grandparents, the seasoned ones, the breathlessly waiting and hoping. And we know how much this little affair can mean over time. If we are lucky, our kids had significant relationships with their own grandparents, or we did with ours, long gone.
So where do we see this reflected around us? I count just one website devoted to grandparents, and a few gushy blogs. Even the denture commercials show us “glam” old folks mostly gardening and going out to dinner. Or, if we are very fortunate, taking in the moon from the deck of a cruise ship.
But our hearts tell a different story. We lucky ones know that the grandparent-child bond can be bone deep, and forever long .
Why do we see so little of it?
Just asking. If you have any thoughts on this, do send them my way.