Making long-distance grandparenting work
Welcome to the world, Charleana Jovie Nazor. My fourth grandchild, Charleana (sounds like Pollyanna), was born Jan. 6 in San Diego, weighing just an ounce short of 6 pounds. She has strawberry-blonde hair, long arms and legs, big feet and long toes. She is the daughter of my youngest son, Kit, and my daughter-inlaw, Bonnie.
Charleana is a family name. My maternal grandfather’s name was Charlie and my late mother’s middle name was Leana.
Her nickname is Charlie Jo. And Charlie Jo is a little doll. I made it to the hospital just three hours after her birth and held her within minutes of walking into Bonnie’s room.
Having a long-distance grandchild is new to me. My other grandchildren — Tilleigh, 10, Evie, 6, and William, 4 — live next door. I see these children nearly every day, and I’m actively involved in their lives. Having them and my daughter so close is a dream come true for me.
And it’s family tradition. I raised my three children next door to my parents.
But that’s not the case with Charlie Jo. My son is a stem-cell scientist, and his company is based in a scientific community in San Diego. If he moves, it will most likely be to a temporary location in another country. Moving “home” to Chattanooga is not in the cards.
And while it’s been hard, I’ve learned to accept it. I’m extremely proud of my son, and I support him in his research no matter where that may take him.
When you’re raising your children, you get so caught up in everyday life you don’t stop to think that one day your child may never live close to you. I assumed that we’d always be together, sharing every holiday, every birthday and everything in between. It never occurred to me back then that one day I might see my children less than a month out of every year. But that’s exactly the way it is.
During my flight to San Diego on the day of Charlie Jo’s birth, I was beside-myself excited. I couldn’t wait to hold my granddaughter. But at the same time, I wondered how it was going to be possible for me to leave her two weeks later, knowing it would be a few months before I would see her again.
But once I arrived, the joy of being with my son and his family negated any worries I had.
For three days, I stayed with my family in Bonnie’s hospital room, only going home to sleep at night. I met all of Bonnie’s doctors and Charlie Jo’s pediatrician. I was privileged to witness my son and daughter-in-law morph into the best parents I have ever seen. I watched them fall in love with their child.
Being a journalist, it was only natural for me to document everything in photographs and video.
Though the kids (Kit and Bonnie) very much wanted me with them during this important time in their lives, I was, at first, somewhat apprehensive about getting in their way. I didn’t want to intrude on their bonding with the baby or when they might just want to be alone.
My fears were unfounded. In fact, I couldn’t have felt more welcomed. After we came home from the hospital, we quickly settled into a routine that worked perfectly. The four of us were constantly together except when we slept. I haven’t spent so much time with my son since he left home for college in 2000. It was a gift.
When Kit and Bonnie realized that I was staying only two weeks, they were genuinely upset. They thought I was staying three weeks, and they wanted me to stay a month. I seriously think they want me to live with them. We were all completely comfortable with one another. It felt like home.
The best part of the trip, though, was bonding with my granddaughter. I introduced her to songs that my parents sang to me, my children and grandchildren (my father died in 2008 and mother in 2014). Charleana listened to Gene Autry, Perry Como, Doris Day, The Beatles, Elvis, Nat “King” Cole and Bob Marley. I told her stories of her great-grandparents and how they would have adored her. And I kissed her a million times.
Leaving her was hard. Leaving Kit and Bonnie was hard. We cried.
I cried at the airport. I cried on the plane. I cried until I realized that, though I was leaving one grandchild, I was coming home to my other three. I had missed Tilleigh, Evie and William even though I talked to them most every day, including Facetiming.
So here I am at home, missing Charleana, but happy knowing that I’m going to see her in a few weeks.
Thanks to Facetime, I get to visit with her nearly every day. I witnessed one of her first smiles, and I get to see her expressions, and I’m very grateful that I get to see all this in real time. It’s nowhere near the same as holding her, but I’ll take what I can get. I’m grateful for the technology.
Still, I plan on becoming a seasoned traveler. I imagine I’ll fly to San Diego — or wherever they may be living — at least three times a year. They’ll visit Chattanooga, as well. Long-distance grandparenting is new to me, but I’m determined to make it work.