With help of tools like Zoom, grandparents stay connected
My parents frequently complained about having to listen to their friends discuss the joys of grandparenthood. For decades, the two of them would politely smile and inwardly roll their eyes while coworkers, lunch buddies and fellow churchgoers went on (and apparently on, and on) about grandchildren. “If I have to hear about another little grandgenius one more time, I’m going to scream,” my mother would vent.
She is now the grandma of two: my 1yearold son and my brother’s 2yearold daughter. And Mom can’t shut up about it. The only person who discusses their grandchildren more than my mother is my father. I’ve arrived to meet my dad at a restaurant only to find him forcing waitstaff and strangers midbite into looking at iPhone photos of his offspring’s offspring.
“Dad,” I asked him. “Is being a grandparent as good as all of your friends claimed?”
Without missing a beat and with all of the seriousness at his command, my father looked me dead in the eye and replied, “It’s better.”
My folks haven’t seen their grandkids in over two weeks, and it is breaking their hearts.
Rules around sheltering in place and social distancing have helped me realize that, at least in our family, the most physically vulnerable among us are the ones who most benefit from physical contact. Basically, grandchildren have been helping to keep my parents healthy. They’ve spent the past two years running, climbing, rolling, chasing, lifting, twirling and snuggling. Being a grandparent does a body good.
Please note, because if you don’t, I will never hear the end of it: Despite being in their early 70s, Mom and Dad are youthful, active people who consider themselves to be in their mid50s. Nonetheless, COVID19 is reported to be particularly dangerous to older people. Both my husband and my brother’s wife hold essential publicfacing jobs in San Francisco, raising the risk of them bringing this highly contagious illness home. Sorry, Grandma and Grandpa, we’ve got to be strict.
This isn’t easy for us, either. My brother and I live incredibly close to our parents — and on purpose. We keep really detailed weekly calendars of which grandparent is taking care of which grandkid on which day. But because of the coronavirus pandemic, my parents have been relegated to FaceTime calls and family Zoom video meetings. And I’m without all that extra free help.
Dad’s 73rd birthday was last week, so we all met online for a group videoconference. My niece held up a picture she had painted, and we sang “Happy Birthday” to my father. Afterward, Mom confessed that she’d nearly had to step away. The sight of us all apart and trying to make the best of things was too sad.
Our spry senior citizens have been looking for loopholes. My motherinlaw, a registered nurse who’s been a champion of all disinfectant products for as long as I’ve known her, keeps trying to find ways around the rules in the interest of seeing (and feeding) her grandchildren. Barring that, she has become suddenly adept at the technology she once eschewed. For example, on Sunday, my motherinlaw called to check in on us and, for the first time ever, suggested we FaceTime. Swipes and screens once deemed too complicated to attempt are now lifelines to chubbycheeked minors.
According to my mother, Joe Biden got to see his grandkids. She presented this information much as I once angrily reported which classmates owned Cabbage Patch Kids dolls. Apparently, the presidential candidate arranged to sit at a safe distance from his family so the Bidens could all connect in person. Begrudgingly, Mom admitted that her grandkids were too young for such a formal arrangement. Toddlers cannot sit 6 feet away for longer than six seconds. They want running, climbing, rolling, chasing, lifting, twirling and snuggling. They’re not yet ready to compromise.
As their proficiency at Zoom meetings and FaceTime sessions increases, so does my parents’ ability to manage the physical distance. Humans can adapt to all sorts of pain. Our hearts find ways to fill little holes, one by one. As we move into April, I can see my parents settle into what we’re hoping is a shortterm separation. I’m relieved and surprised. For all of their years of halflistening to gushing stories of other people’s grandchildren, my mom and dad have seen their world explode with joy at having their own. When we get to the other side of this, and we will, it’ll be one hell of a reunion.