To You, From a Mother and Grandmother.
This morning I talked to my eighteen-month-old grandson. I sang the ‘Kookaburra song’, Row, row, row your Boat’ and ‘Give me a home amongst the gumtrees’. He swayed and clapped. I watched him dribble a basketball and shoot baskets in his toddler basketball ring. He wore his superman top and flew around in his daddy’s arms before landing on the big bed. He ate cashews and crackers and drank water from his zoo cup. He said new words, kick and goal. Hugged himself and kissed the screen where, I’m sure in his mind, I live. Nana he cooed. Nana and Bip Pop (his grandfather).
I see him every day. See him but can’t touch him, cuddle him, smell him. He is in isolation in LA. I am in isolation in Melbourne Australia. I cannot hug my daughter, drink wine with her or physically be present in her everyday life. The way I normally cope with my daughter living in LA is to say, “it’s only a day away”. That day away is getting on a Qantas flight of 14-16 hrs, standing in a long line at USA customs and then there she is smiling and laughing. We hug and hug and hug. Gradually the jet lag disperses. And life is full of sunshine and smiles.
My “day away” is now at least 6 months away. Or more.
I will have to find a new philosophy to cope with the distance between us. It’s strange the course that life takes. We (my husband and I) have always encouraged our daughter to follow her dreams. And she has and still does even though her dream has changed. Her dream led her to America. And we supported her in getting her O1 Visa and her Green Card. Our beautiful talented daughter who sang before she talked. If someone had prophesied in 2020 she would be “Safer at Home” in LA due to this hideous virus and the world would be in lockdown we would have questioned their sanity. Right? They are so many things we image that could go wrong—war, terrorists, earthquakes, bush fires, presidents and prime ministers. But a pandemic would not be one of them.
But here we are kept apart from our loved ones by a germ.
Young mums out there who are yet to see their children grow up and spread their wings. You know you love your little ones so very, very much. They have a big slice of your heart and a huge slice of your time. They are precious beyond belief, even if at times they are exhausting and use up all your emotional and physical
resources and limit your career or creative pursuits. Caught as you are in the day to day hassle and routine you think it will never end. But it does and they grow up so very quickly. Your love for them doesn’t lessen as they get older, become annoying teenagers and turn into adults. Of course, it changes somewhat.
But hey, my beautiful daughter is now my best friend.
While my daughter and grandson live in LA, I have a son and another grandson who live around the corner. It has been advised by our government that grandchildren should not visit grandparents because older people are more at risk of getting really sick from this virus. So, we face time each-other and I watch my two-and-half year old grandson play cricket with his dad in the backyard. Fall over, after taking a spectacular catch (like the Aussie cricket players on TV) and pretend to be a bowler/ fielder called Gary. He insists he won’t get up until Nani and Bip Pop say very loudly in unison “Get up Gary.” My son drives over to my place, with my grandson in his car seat, and parks the car. I stand on the footpath (6ft away) and we have a conversation. My grandson holds up his footy cards and tells me about the players. I run around the car calling out in a silly voice “I love you, I love you, I love you!” He laughs and says, “You’re silly Nani.”
My arms ache to hold him.
My daughter-in-law is pregnant with another little boy. She is due to give birth in the next few weeks. When my 3rd grandson is born I won’t be able to see him. The hospitals are very strict (as they should be) about visitors. No one is allowed to be there except the birth partner. (and even on some occasions this is questionable).
So, the welcome of this baby will be very different from that of his brother where a few hours after he was born, the whole family came to see him. YaYa, uncles, aunts, cousins and Nani and Bip Pop. We welcomed him, held him, talked to him, kissed him, loved him. All in a room together. Breathing the same air. Touching the same surfaces.
Together.
So much to miss out on.
So much to look forward to when the world is better. My family together.
My grandsons playing (and squabbling).
A big happy mess of noise and hugs. And wine with my daughter.
xx Robyn Bishop
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