House of the Two Grandmothers

Back in the day, old folks lived with young folks. Aging parents lived with their children. Mother’s grandmother sat in a rocking chair by the fireplace, keeping warm in the days before central heat. Daddy’s mother lived for years with one of her daughters. Today, my friend Max is the rarity, living with his mother, to enable her to stay in her home.

And there’s the House of the Two Grandmothers, so named because my cousin Richard and his wife Anne moved in with Anne’s mother Barbara after her father died at 99, and a year or so later, moved Richard’s mother, my beloved Aunt Vivian in with them.

Pictured headed for a wedding in NJ, with my mother along for the ride, sporting hats from the attic...but not worn for the wedding. (Photo by Catherine.)

Transportation for the two grandmothers:

Anne is a nurse and works nights at the hospital. Richard stays home with the two grandmothers, making sure they eat the delicious food he cooks, getting them outside in the back yard for fresh air (amused by the illegal chickens), keeping track of their medication, ensuring they take it. Somewhere in this universe is a hidden supply of patience from which they draw, even-tempered and with good humor.

On Monday, we all piled into my van and headed for the favorite eatery: Cracker Barrel. Cane-wielding grandmothers, their children giving them careful instructions on getting into and out of the seats of the van so nothing broke in the transfer.

Last night, Anne’s birthday, daughter Catherine and son David with wife Zoa and three kidlets including toddler, arrived to celebrate. Total in house: Two grandmothers, my mother, Richard, Anne, Catherine, David, Zoa, 8 year old Gwendolyn, 6 year old Katelyn, year old Alex, moi, my two canines, Molly the resident Corgi

who is none too happy about my two little four-legged intruders. It wasn’t too long before I hid under the sofa.

Today, Anne’s day off, she and my mother are making peach preserves, with the two grandmothers supervising. I just heard Anne tell Aunt Vivian in a gentle voice, “You’re quality control.” On my day off, I don’t know what I’d be doing but it wouldn’t be making peach preserves.

Anne and Richard revel in the presence of their children and grandchildren. They move gently with the daily needs of the two grandmothers, as those needs become greater. Their willingness and ability to find themselves through their interactions with others is a gift not granted to all of us.

I’d go nuts, but it works for them. And two wonderful old women live richer, safer lives.