From the Editor

My friend and mentor Judy became a Grandma several years before I did, and she threw herself into grandparenting with enthusiasm. When she had two little granddaughters, she decided she’d make each of them a dress. “I’ll be known as the Grandma who sews,” she mused. Judy was not an avid seamstress, but she did know a secret. If you do something special once, your grandchildren will remember, and you’ll have a reputation.

When it was my turn to be a Grandma, I wondered what my claim to fame would be.

I was pretty good at rocking and soothing my newborn baby granddaughter, and I handled her with a confidence that I think she appreciated, since she’d obviously been sent home with inexperienced parents. Rhiannon and I understood each other from the beginning. I was absolutely crazy about her and she knew it. She could count on me for comforting whenever she needed it or her parents needed a break.

Early on, I made it my mission to get her to smile at me, and later to say “Grandma.” When she finally named me “Cama,” I was thrilled.

Later, when she began to let us know she enjoyed music, we’d dance together. We didn’t care if we looked silly. As she learned to walk and talk, she’d request specific music (Piglet’s Big Movie soundtrack was the all-time favorite) and ask me for a “dance.” I obliged every time. I was “the Grandma who danced.”

Then I created Rhiannon’s special drawer in the kitchen. While I was being “the Grandma who cooked,” she could hang out with me and peruse the contents of her drawer. She knew if something was missing, and always noted anything new. I began to look for things to leave in the drawer for her next visit. My old doll dishes found their way in there, but she really preferred my good measuring spoons and tart pans. Little toys, tiny books, and a Mardi Gras necklace all found a place in this kitchen drawer.

It was only natural that Rhiannon would also come to associate me with cookies, since she watched me make them so many times. Once she discovered the joy of cookies, each time she’d arrive for a visit her first word to me would be “cookie,” endlessly repeated until I obliged her with one. I got reproachful looks from her parents, but I didn’t care. I am only carrying on an honored family tradition, because my mother was “the Grandma who always had cookies” too.

Recently, I had the chance to be there for Rhiannon when her life changed dramatically with the arrival of her new baby brother Rhys. She knows I’ll pay attention to her when her mom is distracted by the baby’s more urgent needs. I’ll watch the “princess” movie, or read The Cat in the Hat to her, or sit with her while she toys with her ”big girl” lunch. I’m “the Grandma with patience.”

When I was actively parenting, I was often too serious about the grave responsibility I had and the constant work I felt I had to do to be good at it. While I don’t regret being a conscientious parent, I wish I’d played more with my children. They don’t hold it against me, but if I could turn back the clock, I’d definitely make the time to play more and be downright silly with them. Fortunately, now I’m blessed with the time and the opportunity to play with my grandchildren and I love it.

Some of my contemporaries are uncomfortable with being called “Grandma” because they think that means they’re “old.” Nothing could be further from the truth. Being an active, involved grandparent is great exercise for your body and your brain. Anyone who has spent a day with a two-year-old will understand the wonderful benefits.

I’m proud to say, “I’m the Grandma who plays.”

Celebrate Grandparent’s Day September 11.