Happy belated Grandparents' Day to those of you who are grandmothers and grandfathers. I learned of this event by accident while shopping where I saw balloons adorned with Grandma, Grandpa, Papa and Nana. Apparently, Grandparents' Day was Sunday. How did I not know this?
I've since learned that in 1978 - the year I was pregnant with my first child - President Jimmy Carter declared the first Grandparents' Day, something that's always celebrated on the first Sunday after Labor Day.
Who knew? Not I.
In fact, nobody I know celebrates Grandparents' Day. It's just never caught on. And no wonder, because it's redundant. If you're a grandparent, then you're already a mother or a father, which means you've ostensibly celebrated already on Mother's Day and Father's Day, so Grandparents' Day is kind of superfluous.
Want to take a guess at Grandparents' Day's official flower? The forget-me-not, the perfect choice. It's a flower, plus a guilt-inducing message, all in one.
Setting aside the mostly unrecognized Grandparents' Day, there's the issue of a grandparent's name, which is far more important than getting a Mylar balloon from the unSafeway. I immediately noticed when looking at the Grandparents' Day balloons that there were only four grandparent name choices: Grandpa, Grandma, Papa and Nana. How limiting!
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My favorite saying that I live by,
Grandpa is the name,
Spoiling is the game.
Grand parenting is my all-time favorite job. I’m Meemer – a name my daughter came up with for me when she was a teen. She and her friends called me that and it stuck – and I like it. I grew up with “Grandma and Granddad” and my kids called my dad “Poppy.” But Craig wanted to carry on HIS family’s tradition. Annie and I were secretly sure the little girls would come up with an abbreviated version, but they all lovingly run to him, shouting “Grandfather!”
My cousins’ friends congregated at my aunt’s home, and she was Mammer to the whole gang. When grandchildren came along, they all called her Mammer, too. Close to Meemer.
Ha! How about that.
Meemer is a fine grandmother name. And I love the sweet formality of Craig’s “Grandfather” title.
I agree that grandparenting is awesome. I’m a much better grandmother than I was a mother.
I am too! Where was this patient, focused woman when my kids were young? Oh, yeah, she was a work-in-progess and trying to get things done. 🙂 It’s helpful to have the perspective of age – and knowing how fleeting EVERY moment of childhood is. Enjoy!
My sister-in-law married into a Greek family where a grandmother is Yia-Yia and a grandfather is Papoo (accent on the second syllable: PaPOO but not strongly accented) which I find as unattractive as CaCa. My cousin’s name is Claudia Jo, and the child of one of her friend calls her CaCa Jo. She tried having that as a personalized license plate but was turned down. My own grandmothers were Nana and Granny.
Great topic, Doni. My “youthful” grandparents were Nana and Papa, an my not-as-youthful grandparents were Grandma Anna and Papa Moish (the Yiddish name for Morris). Since I spend so much time in Africa, I went with the grandmother name in South Africa, which is Gogo. Another one that I find particularly sweet is from Uganda – Jjaja, but that might be harder for a toddler to pronounce without morphing it into something else. The double jj is not a typo, by the way. In Luganda, they use a lot of double consonants.
Hallmark holidays are my least favorite, so though I absolutely love being a grandpa, I have no problem with Grandparent’s Day failing to find fashionable fecundity as a marketable commodity.
I’m “Grampa” to my two Sacramento grandkids, and “Grampy” to my Redding grandkid. My wife is “Gramma” to all.
My in-law wanted the Sacramento grandkids to call her “Análí Asdz????.” (How do you pronounce that? Fuggifiknow.) It’s the Navajo designation for paternal grandmother. She’s zero percent Navajo, and though I can’t abide the PC “cultural appropriation” prohibition against incorporating Native American words into common usage, I’m happy to report that this preposterous and vainglorious attempt at separating herself from the rest of grandparents’ pack failed like a lead balloon.
The oldest grandkid was like, “Umm……not only no, but HELL no.”
I firmly believe that the only functional reason for people of my age cohort to go on living—from an evolutionary perspective—is to help take care of grandkids. I think it’s a failing of modern society that so many grandparents are unwilling, unable, or separated by distance from this function. If it were up to me, it’d be my full-time job.
(That was supposed to be a reply to Erin.)
Gotcha. Playing with my grandchildren is, hands-down, the most important thing I do. I know I have just a few years when they enthusiastically want me around. I intend to suck up every moment – fortunately they are only 2 minutes away. But I would follow them anywhere.
I absolutely fear the day when the grandkids no longer desire the undivided and goofy attention that they get from Grampa, but I know it’s coming. I weathered losing my status as my grandson’s favorite person in the world—I held the position from about 2-4 years old—but I’m still in great standing, so it’s been fine.
By the time they’re teens I’ll probably be desperately looking for ways to spend quality time with them that won’t bore them to death. (I should live so long.)
In my opinion, the nicest thing my daughter has ever said to me: “Watching you with my kids reminds me that you’re a nurturer.”
Steve, in olden times grand parents took care of the grandkids while the parents went hunting and farming. When the grand parents couldn’t care for the grand kids anymore those grands were left by a tree for the bears.
I much prefer modern society’s answer to that by having assisted living homes for those grands to be cared for and visited by their family members.
I can still take care for my grand kids and much prefer going to a home, when the time comes, than being left by a cactus for the scorpions.
It’s hell getting old, and even more hellish feeling old. I have dark days when getting pushed out to sea on an ice flow sounds sensible and appealing, if it weren’t for missing out on watching the grandkids grow up. I’d rather have that be my end than to end up in some of the homes for the elderly that I’ve encountered.
I have an in-law (another Grandpa to the Sacramento clan) whose about my age and has terminal cancer. I’m told he probably has less than a year. I can’t even imagine what it’s like, knowing that the granddaughter who just turned 3 will probably not remember you at all, and the 6-year-old’s memories will fade because you went too soon. I want to promise him that I won’t let them forget, but I honestly don’t know him well enough to make that happen.
Your grandkids are lucky to have you, Steve.
WordPress didn’t like the weird diacritical marks on the second Navajo word and replaced the characters with “????”. The word—sans the diacriticals—is “Asdzaa.”
I think “Granny Clampet” is a Hollywood construct. She probably would have been called “Mamaw Clampet” in her native Appalachian hillbilly dialect. (Anyone else read the novel “Mamaw” about Frank and Jesse James’ mother?)
Speaking of the Beverly Hillbillies, here’s a grim trivia question: In a recurring role, who played Janet, a pretty secretary at the bank run by Mr. Drysdale, their banker and next-door neighbor. (Not Mr. Drysdale’s personal secretary, Miss Jane Hathaway, who was always hot for Jethro.)
Steve, that is grim trivia, Sharon Tate.
Janet Trego was played by Sharon Tate.
Oh, the things I learn from you guys. 🙂
We have nine grandchildren and fifteen great grandchildren. We are proud to simply be called grandma, grammy, gram and grandpa, grampy or gramps.
I meant to add, I agree with you, Steve, “it’s hell getting old and even more hellish feeling old”.
My best memories of childhood were with my Oma. Germany in 1963. Oma was my first grand parent and was to be my best of all time.
My grandparents were from Poland. Babcia and Dziadek (we pronounced it Jaju).
It’s not always possible, but when grandkids and loving grandparents get to hang out together, it’s one of the greatest gifts in the world; to the world. Everyone benefits. Grandparents have a more global view of the world, and if they’re retired have to time to give their grandkids experiences they couldn’t give their own kids because of time constraints.