It's one of those things that usually happens at funerals. There's an outpouring of love from the adult children but the recipient of such affection is no longer there to hear it.
Well, the coronavirus has brought some of that outpouring in advance. My children, and those of my friends are all suddenly worried and protective.
"I'll do the shopping," son-in-law, Brendan, offered this week.
The next morning, another son-in-law, Michael, who lives five hours away, called saying, "Let Brendan do the shopping!."
They're ganging up on us, and while we may be a bit prickly taking orders, we are mostly obeying. After all, it's because they love us. (Didn't we do some of that tough love with them when they were kids?)
A neighbor who had planned to host a small gathering last Friday canceled in the last minute. "We wanted to do it but our children wouldn't let us," she said.
A friend with tickets to return to Pennsylvania from a vacation in Florida, is told by her kids, "Stay there. You can't come near your grandkids anyway."
And on a walk a few days ago, we stopped by the home of a friend who is going through chemo. His 20-year-old son held him tightly around his shoulders as he stood about 25 feet away from us in his yard, not letting him venture a step closer. The son planned to be there at his side, restraining him, for the duration.
As a number of newspapers are now writing (as in today's Wall St. Journal ), we are suddenly "elderly". Or as someone said, "60 is not the new 40. It's the new 80." No matter that 3 weeks ago, I was skiing, or last night lifting weights.
For the first time in my life I am feeling like I do fit in that "old" category and must take the required precautions if I'm going to see my grandchildren grow up.
What's hard is not hugging the grandkids right now, though I've been seeing them. I've been doing fun things on Facetime with them: Spanish lessons with the 7 and 9 year olds; reading books to the 2 and 4 year olds (or rather, them trying to read books to us). One teen showed us her latest drawings, though it's harder to get the teens' attention.
Friends are calling, too. We may "get together" with them soon on one of the many video conferencing platforms that we're now engaged in. Maybe drinks and chat on Saturday night?
Learning new skills, bridging the Great Divide, is just one of those things that is keeping us "young."
Well, the coronavirus has brought some of that outpouring in advance. My children, and those of my friends are all suddenly worried and protective.
"I'll do the shopping," son-in-law, Brendan, offered this week.
The next morning, another son-in-law, Michael, who lives five hours away, called saying, "Let Brendan do the shopping!."
They're ganging up on us, and while we may be a bit prickly taking orders, we are mostly obeying. After all, it's because they love us. (Didn't we do some of that tough love with them when they were kids?)
A neighbor who had planned to host a small gathering last Friday canceled in the last minute. "We wanted to do it but our children wouldn't let us," she said.
A friend with tickets to return to Pennsylvania from a vacation in Florida, is told by her kids, "Stay there. You can't come near your grandkids anyway."
And on a walk a few days ago, we stopped by the home of a friend who is going through chemo. His 20-year-old son held him tightly around his shoulders as he stood about 25 feet away from us in his yard, not letting him venture a step closer. The son planned to be there at his side, restraining him, for the duration.
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| Grandparent time on Facebook |
For the first time in my life I am feeling like I do fit in that "old" category and must take the required precautions if I'm going to see my grandchildren grow up.
What's hard is not hugging the grandkids right now, though I've been seeing them. I've been doing fun things on Facetime with them: Spanish lessons with the 7 and 9 year olds; reading books to the 2 and 4 year olds (or rather, them trying to read books to us). One teen showed us her latest drawings, though it's harder to get the teens' attention.
Friends are calling, too. We may "get together" with them soon on one of the many video conferencing platforms that we're now engaged in. Maybe drinks and chat on Saturday night?
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| A new skill: video conference |
