It takes a village
Grandparents assume essential roles during pandemic
Gilberto Peña’s first lesson when teaching his 16-year- old grandson, Arón Abrego, how to drive was practical: Seat belts always, he said.
Cars didn’t have those when Peña was a teen growing up in Brownsville. But at age 84, he doesn’t play around with safety.
The next few lessons focused on basic needs, such as food, so he taught his grandson how to drive safely to Popeyes or Whataburger.
After a month of taking the car out for spins, Peña was confident they could grab a bite to eat, then he could fall asleep safely in the car without worry as Arón drove.
“I was uptight at the very beginning,” Peña said. “Arón knew some of the basics of driving from his parents, but they are working. So I took over. He’s had to learn to synchronize with the traffic signals, but he’s doing really good now.”
For grandparents such as Peña and his wife, Iris, this pandemic means doing more. More teaching, tutoring and overall child rearing.
Grandparents across the nation have stepped into these roles as parents are challenged with working while their children attend virtual school at home. Even those grandparents who are already the sole caretak
er for their grandkids are now taxed with additional parenting duties, including learning the technology of virtual schooling.
My own mother is part of this trend. She’s the sitter when I need to run an errand and the storyteller when I’m too tired to read at bedtime. My mother was an educator; I am not. During this pandemic, I’ve relied on her more than I ever thought I would.
And if my grandmother, Lovell Rowles, who died some 15 years ago in her native Missouri, were alive, she’d be right here, too. We were bonded throughout my life. In fact, my first job out of college was at the Kansas City Star. It was an incredible opportunity, yet I was most excited that I would be just 90 miles from my grandmother, who lived in a small Missouri town and kept a spare bedroom ready for me.
According to AARP, there are now more grandparents in the U.S. than ever before, 70 million, and nearly 8 million children live in homes with their grandparents or other relatives. More than 2.6 million children live in homes where grandparents are their sole caretakers.
Multigenerational living situations, whether in place before the pandemic or prompted by it, mean grandparents are a backbone of family life.
The Peñas have lived with their daughter, Carmen Peña Abrego, and her husband, Rudy, for nearly two decades.
After Arón and his 13-year- old sister, Bela, were born, the grandparents did what grandparents do — they served as the cheerleader at school functions, shared life lessons at family dinners and taught them fun skills, such as rollerskating.
Before the pandemic, Gilberto Peña rose at 6 every morning to make lunches for Arón and Bela. Some days, he created weird concoctions: ham and cheese rolled in corn tortillas and wrapped carefully in foil. The children didn’t always eat it, but they never complained.
“It was part of his purpose,” Carmen Peña Abrego said. “The kids give my parents purpose, and I think their quality of life is so much better with them here.”
Grandparents are often the only babysitters parents trust during COVID-19, said Madonna Harrington Meyer, a sociology professor at Syracuse University in New York and author of “Grandmothers at Work: Juggling Families and Jobs” (NYU Press, 2014). Grandparents, she said, are now split into two groups: those who are quarantined away from their families and feel isolated, and those who are living in the same household while socially distancing from the world.
“We know a little bit of grandparenting is good for your health, refreshing for your spirit and gives you a sense of purpose and a great deal of joy,” she said. “Some of the commitments that many grandparents are doing now are enormous. They are becoming exhausted, and it’s impacting their own social lives.”
They are giving up church, volunteering, exercise or just being with friends.
“American grandparents do a lot more than their European counterparts,” Harrington Meyer said. “European parents are often given six months of paid parental leave, compared with 12 weeks unpaid in the United States. They get a month of paid vacation at the start. You have to work 15 years in many places in the U.S. to get that amount of time off.”
Basically, American working families need better support to make it easier, she said. I agree.
Many working parents, particularly women, are having to scale back their careers, go part time or bow out of the workforce altogether to care for their children during the pandemic. According to the National Women’s Law Center, women lost 6 million jobs since the pandemic started. Some employers have introduced flexible working hours and remote work to accommodate child care needs. At companies with up to 500 employees, the Families First Coronavirus Response Act allows for 12 weeks of paid leave to parents with kids at home.
Every bit helps.
Twice a week, Sara Speer Selber and her 92-year- old father, Marvin Speer, navigate the carpool line to pick up her grandchildren, 3-year- old George Selber and his 2-yearold sister, Bridgett, from school. They also have a 2-month- old sister, Ellie, and 1-year- old cousin, Raegan Gustafson. Speer Selber’s children rely on her assistance as they work.
“I’m in a super unique situation where I can be ‘Bubbie on call,’ ” she said. “I have been called to take the kids to the doctor, to school or to have them spend the night, but none of it is an imposition. I look at friends who have grandparents who are out of town — I’m really blessed. It’s a gift to know these kids individually, and they get to know my dad, their greatgrandfather.”
At the Peña-Abrego home, grandmother Iris helps Bela with her Spanish homework while Arón is out driving with Gilberto.
“I feel we can leave something behind Arón can always use,” Gilberto said about the driving sessions. “We drove him to school and to music when he was young. Now, he will eventually drive his sister to school.”
A junior at the Energy Institute High School, Arón is constantly doting on his grandfather. He plays with his earlobes and rubs his neck after their driving lesson. They share a mutual respect and love.
“I’m 84, my wife is 82,” Gilberto said. “We’re almost at the end of our line. So I’ll continue to do this as long as I can. And I told his dad, ‘If Arón hits something, I’ll wake up.’ ”
“The kids give my parents purpose, and I think their quality of life is so much better with them here.” Carmen Peña Abrego