Only Indulgent Love

Rosemary Bogdan contemplate the special bond grandparents can form with their grandchildren.

The grandchildren have just left. The ones who live three hours away are on the road. The ones who live five minutes away are back home. For one night all five of the beloved little ones were here, all of them between the ages of two and six. Was it chaotic? Why yes, it was. But it was delightfully so.

I remember when my children were very young, my mother would let them pull off all the cushions of her living room sectional and build forts with them. They loved it. She seemed to love it too. As we would prepare to leave, I would tell the children to put the cushions back where they belong. But Mom would intervene, saying to just leave them as they were. She said that would give her the pleasure of knowing they had been there.

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I found that amusing at the time. Now that I am a grandmother I understand completely. As I sit here writing I notice there is a diaper on my desk. Not sure when that got left behind. In my bathroom there are six little yellow duckies on the counter, part of a new tub toy I bought in anticipation of the visit. They are next to the little red plastic cup and a wooden hammer. Who brought a wooden hammer into the bathroom? No idea. I must remember to change the sheets. One little diaper leaked a bit during the night. Yes, and there is a random Lego here and there throughout the house. Best to not walk barefoot for a while.

All these little items remind me of the sweetness of having had my grandchildren here. They bring back images of the little smiles, the frequent requests for juice, and hearing the darling voices call, “Nana, look!” reminding me to admire the latest block creation before it is intentionally destroyed. Did I mention four of them are boys?

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An wise elderly Japanese man once taught me an expression that he thought perfectly described grandparenting. Amai bakari. Sekinin ga nai. It means "Only indulgent love or affection. No responsibility." That’s it. Grandparenting is like parenting but without the responsibility. The love is similar to that of a parent but in some ways even deeper and more profound, perhaps because it is not mixed in with feelings of responsibility and the low-level stress of wanting to parent exactly right. The parenting part is not my job.

We see our adult children as parents. How could that much time have passed? Are they parenting as we did? Often the answer is no, but this is their turn. We had ours. I try to never second guess them, praying that God will give them wisdom in all their parenting decisions. Raising these little ones to be responsible, God-fearing adults is not up to me. It is up to their parents. I can let that go and just admire the block creations and everything else they do. I can buy the bathtub toys I know they will love. I tell them how much I love them and how wonderful they are. I can do a little spoiling.

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We might gently, kindly teach them a few things now and then. But mostly, we will just love them. #catholicmom

The world out there is not always friendly, and it is not always good. Those precious grandchildren will inevitably get hurt. They will be buffeted about and there will be many who cross their paths who do not show them love. But may they always know that Nana and Grandpa will always be there with a ready hug and smile. That in our eyes, in many ways, they can do no wrong. If they make a little mistake, we are apt to look the other way and maybe even make an excuse. Why? Because forming them is not our job. We might gently, kindly teach them a few things now and then. But mostly, we will just love them. That is the grandparents’ job, the only job where the sole responsibility it to love.

Saint Anne, pray for us and for our grandchildren.

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