My DIL said I was too old to babysit, then tried to prove it at my own birthday picnic. But when my grandson disappeared, everyone finally saw what I’d been dealing with for years…
I’ve always been the cool grandma. The kind who’s always on the move, who doesn’t know what “tired” or “day off” even means.
I planned to live to a hundred and never slow down. Why? I still had a ton of ideas for that world!
You could spot me at puppy yoga surrounded by college girls or skating at the park with twenty-something guys. I even learned Japanese only because I wanted to understand the writing on my grandson’s T-shirt. My young friends always found me fascinating.
“Clementina, we’re hitting the pizza place tomorrow—coming with us?”
“Of course I am!”
“We’re planning to watch the surf competition this weekend.”
“Oh, I just bought a new swimsuit—I wouldn’t miss it!”
Invites like those came in weekly. And I always kept up with the times. But the most important thing, my pride and joy, was my grandson, Jason.
No matter how wild my schedule looked, I always carved out time for him. Kelly, my DIL, kindly handed him over to me. “Clementina, could you take Jason for a few hours?
I have… stuff.”
Those “stuff” moments happened almost daily. And I never said no, because Jason ran to me like it was a holiday. “Grandma!”
That one word kept me going.
And Kelly? Oh, she was more than happy to take advantage of that:
“Clementina, you’ll put Jason to bed, right? I’m staying out with the girls.”
“Your soup was so good last time… Jason won’t eat anything else now.”
“I have an unexpected manicure appointment tomorrow.
Can you grab Jason early?”
Sometimes I wondered…
Does my son Jack notice how much I did? He was always at work and only ever saw a clean house and a smiling child. He thought he had the perfect wife.
But both Kelly and I knew who made the magic happen. ***
When I started taking Jason to my place for school breaks, Jack began sending me money. Double what he used to.
“Mom, you’re doing so much. You should have everything you need.”
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t try to buy my love,” I’d grumble, even though the extra cash never hurt. Kelly, though?
She couldn’t stand it. “Really, Jack? Five hundred dollars for ice cream and a walk in the park?
Meanwhile, I’ve been waiting two months for a new hair straightener!”
“Kelly, we talked about this.”
I noticed how Kelly counted every dollar, while I didn’t spend a cent on myself. Sometimes, though, I caught Kelly watching me. Studying.
She’d tilt her head and give me this polished little smile that never quite reached her eyes. Once, I overheard her whispering on the phone:
“If he keeps sending her that much, I’ll never get the…”
I wasn’t supposed to hear it. But I did.
And I smiled anyway. So, during one of those lovely financial “discussions,” I decided to lighten the mood and drop some cheerful news. “Kids, my 80th birthday is coming up!
