Mamie and Papa
It goes without saying that my kids and Bear are the most important people in my life. However, my parents are also the most important people in my life. My kids call them Mamie and Papa and they are the best grandparents any kids could hope for.
Although their role as grandparents is likely their favourite, they are also the very best parents!
My recollection of childhood is nothing short of magical. We spent summers at the beach, hiking the West Coast Trail, houseboating and participating in summer sports and the winters were spent snowboarding and enjoying holidays with family. We always had a dog and often other pets that we asked for like iguanas and birds. They supported any and every activity we wanted to try and were always there cheering us on.
My parents both worked full time but always managed to be there for me and my brother.
It’s easy for me to focus on all the things they did for us, but the real story is in the kind of people they are. They are kind to the core. They are inclusive. They are generous. They are fun. They are interested. They don’t judge. They are always learning and growing and keeping up with the times. They forgive. They are reliable. They are honest.
I’ve always had a special relationship with my parents but I also know I wasn’t always easy – I skipped school; I didn’t answer my cell phone when I was out past curfew; I lied; I talked back and was a typical know-it-all teenager; I said things I couldn’t take back; I made decisions they didn’t agree with; I hosted parties at their house when they trusted me to be home alone; I experimented with pot, cigarettes and alcohol; I went through weird clothing style phases; and I’m sure this list could go on forever. Through everything they just loved me.
Despite the worry I caused them or the lies I told or the mistakes I made or how much trouble I created, they never wavered.
Sure, they got mad and frustrated occasionally but they always remained a safe place for me to land. They were my first call and that remains true to this day.
Now, while I’m in the thick of raising teens and my little warrior William, I still call them – every day! I call to vent, I call to chat about our days, I call to reminisce about the past, I call to share good news, I call when I’m sad, I call when I’m happy, I call when the news sucks and I call when I have very little to say and I just want to hear their voices. And they always pick up, they always listen, they always give me sound advice, they always validate my feelings, they hold me accountable, they ask how they can help and even when I ramble on, about my boring day of dog walking and exercising, they still seem interested.
These two are often the ones who hold me together when life is tough – it’s been tough a lot over the years.
Looking back, while I was trying to find my footing after William’s diagnosis, they just showed up and loved him. And they kept just showing up and loving him.
They are really the only people who don’t seem to see the diagnosis, they just see William – their grandson.
They feel the ache when we can’t include him in an activity. They feel the ache when he’s clearly uncomfortable. They feel the ache when they know my heart is aching. And they are the first ones to celebrate when things are going well.
Our relationship started when I was born and has grown and evolved over, almost, 45 years. They will always be my parents first, but I’m so lucky that they are my friends too – my absolute, rock solid, unwavering, tested friends. I feel so fortunate for the way they love me but through tears in my eyes, I reflect on the way they love my kids. I almost can’t breathe. They are my kids ride or dies. And no matter what my kids ask of them, they aways say yes. They make an effort to know everything going on in their lives (and there is a lot between the three of them) and they follow up to hear the outcomes.
Everything they were for me, my kids get the more practiced version, and my version was pretty perfect.