The Grand Life: Wholehearted Grandparenting

Grandparenting with our whole hearts takes time and intention. This podcast entertains, educates, and enlightens grandparents who want to become the best they can be. Author Emily Morgan hosts an exploration of grandparenting, the relationships within the role, and the ways in which our grandparenting impacts our children--and their children.

Recollections 7 05/10/2021

Meeting Paula Span 05/03/2021

Pre-Grandparenting 04/26/2021

Grands With Addictions 04/17/2021

The Power of Story, Part 3 04/05/2021

The Power of Story, Part 3 Emily wraps up the third episode on "the power of stories" with a chat with an executive from Scholastic, Inc.--the source of all those books sold to grade-school students from newsletters and book fairs. Their conversation took place just before World Read-Aloud Day, which framed their talk about grandparents reading aloud to their grands. THE STRETCH IT TAKES (Emily's Essay): The Genetics of Reading When I visited the home of my maternal grandparents, I don’t remember seeing a book in any room of the house. It was a stark contrast to our own house with books in each room and a many-volumed encyclopedia that we referred to almost daily. It was our Google. Whenever the questions arose, mostly at the dinner table, the answers were at our fingertips. I especially enjoyed looking through the anatomy section that had layers of transparent drawings that would help you see the many parts of the body from outside to inside. When I asked my mother about whether or not she remembered having books in her house growing up, she had a quick answer. “It was non-existent, other than a newspaper.” How did that happen? How did someone grow up in a house with no books and create a home with books galore? The more I thought about that image, the less I could really grasp growing up with no books. In fact, I cannot remember a time without them. A house without books would be so empty. Like a house with no furniture. Books were there from my babyhood. I associated books with love, and cuddling with my mom, pointing at illustrations or running my hands over the covers. Most of us remember Pat the Bunny, but books for me didn’t need sandpaper to scratch with my fingernails, a flapof fabric to lift, or even a little shock of fur to stroke. Books could be touched for their smooth pages, or the gilded binding, or the inviting artwork. A new book smelled like heaven, and the peculiar crack of the pages when you opened it for the first time was intoxicating and unrepeatable. My own mother didn’t get to experience that until she was 10. I asked her if she even knew that you could own books and have them in your home. “Well, I know that one little boy had books because he gave me a book for my 10th birthday...yes, Heidi! That was the first time I knew you could have books in your house. It made a huge impression on me.” And then there was the library. My mother recalls. “I didn’t even know there was a library until I was in high school. And I would’ve been afraid to go in. A child couldn’t register, I don’t believe. You’d have to have an adult with you.” Even though she never had a library card, my mom made sure we did and took us to the library weekly. A trip to the library was a fun outing for me. I would scour the shelves and take as many books as were allowed. My mom was very involved in the choosing (Caldecott and Newbery Award winners were staples), and if I came back to her with all fiction books, she would direct me to the non-fiction and “encourage” me to choose something from there as well. That was a stretch for me. I remember whining that I didn’t like horses, or outer space or dinosaurs, but she would march me back to the 0-999 stacks and help me pick something. I usually got lost in the 7-800’s. But now and then I would sidle over to the B section...and come home with a biography instead. Beyond the books at home and the books in the library, my mom used books to reward us. I distinctly remember trips to the dentist who had a treasure chest in his office. After a painful tooth extraction, I was offered a little plastic magnifying glass or some jacks and a rubber ball from the treasure chest. My mom said it was fine to choose one of those, but as soon as we got into the car, she smiled and suggested we go get a book. Off we went to the bookstore. Books became more than just sources of information. They became a balm, something I could look to for solace, something I cherished. As a result of all of her intentionality, I still love books. As our children were growing up, we gave them each a special book for Valentine’s Day. I stopped the tradition once they got married. But books have always played prominently in our exchanges with our children and now our grandchildren. And our own children have continued the Valentine’s Day tradition of buying books for their own children. As you have heard, stories were not in my mother’s DNA. But they became part of ours because... she decided to change things up. She was a parent who encouraged reading and opened the door to a world that she had been shut out of. “All those things were missing in my childhood.” I am so grateful that she propped open the door and added those things into mine. I know it wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t what she had grown up with, but it is a legacy that will not soon be forgotten. Thanks, Mom. © 2021 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/18545285

The Power of Story, Part 2 03/29/2021

The Power of Story, Part 1 03/22/2021

Distance/Global Grandparenting, Part 2 03/15/2021

Distance/Global Grandparenting, Part 2 Continuing last episode's theme, this time Emily talks with a grandparent in the US and a parent in France whose extended relationships span oceans, languages, and cultures. Adventure seasoned with selflessness is the recipe. THE STRETCH IT TAKES (Emily's essay) “We’re moving to Brussels.” Those words shocked me even though I was twenty-one, living in my own apartment and working on my graduate degree. My parents called from NH to inform me that my dad had taken a job in Belgium. “Where is that?” was my immediate reply. (I was in grad school for English Lit, and obviously not for Geography). I don’t really remember their reply. All I remember is feeling a sense of abandonment. My parents would no longer be a two-day drive away. They would now be an ocean away. And this was before cell phones and FaceTime. Once I got over the shock, I employed something I have since learned is called “reframing.” Back then, some friends helped me work through it. “Maybe you can go visit. Have you ever been to Belgium? That is so cool. I mean what’s the difference between an 18 hour drive and a six hour flight?” They were right. It’s all how you look at it. I could feel left behind; or I could feel liberated and recognize that my world would soon be expanding. In fact, it already had. Now I knew where Belgium was. Next step? I would be visiting there for Christmas break. One of my favorite parenting books is called The Danish Way of Parenting. It’s also not a bad one for grandparents, because it’s a book about raising confident and capable kids - something we as grandparents want to see happen as we come alongside our own children who are raising their own kids. In the book, the authors talk about the concept of reframing. That is, using language to create a perception shift. In order to be resilient in difficult situations, we all need to find alternate storylines. That is what my friends helped me do when I was floundering after that phone call. Honestly, I have never been good at reframing. It takes practice. I have been more like the character, Isabelle, in the novel Olive, Again by Elizabeth Strout. In this unorthodox book about aging, one of Strout’s characters, Isabelle, who is now in a nursing home says of her only daughter, “ The truth is Olive, Amy is good to me, but she does live in Iowa, and I sometimes think when a child moves that far away they’re really trying to get away from something, and in this case I suspect it’s me.” That’s one way to frame a long distance relationship. But how about if Isabelle, instead, tried to put a different frame around that picture? Perhaps that’s where the daughter, Amy, had found a job she liked, or enjoyed being in a region different from Maine, which can be cold and unaccommodating. Maybe, she was homesick and hoped to get back to Maine at some point but didn’t find it financially viable? Or maybe she simply had built a life she wasn’t prepared to leave. In any case, there are multiple other ways to look at it. And just as Amy wasn’t moving away from her mother, my parents weren’t abandoning me. At least that’s how I would eventually frame it. But it took some time for me to get there, that’s for sure. So, here’s the stretch. As grandparents who may need to say a long goodbye to our grands who are moving very far away, we need to reframe the situation as best we can and not take it personally or wallow in our sad thoughts about how little we’ll see them. Instead, we can be happy for them and all the experiences they will have, and that we will have with them, if we can. I look back now on my travels to Belgium and other places in Europe, and I am very thankful that my parents decided to move there. It was fun for them, and I learned so much I never would have known...including how to change the way I look at things. © 2021 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/18315902

Distance/Global Grandparenting, Part 1 03/08/2021

Grandparent Educators, Part 2 03/01/2021

Grandparent Educators, Part 1 02/22/2021

Grandparent Educators, Part 1 Grandparents can play a range of roles in their grands' education. In Part 1 on this topic, Emily talks with a retired teacher whose journey through racial segregation in the 1950s shaped her commitment to supporting the schooling of her descendants. Emily's essay is a revealing self-portrait of a third grader, a pen pal, and a missed opportunity Emily's guest Kaaren Rodman provides details on her family's scholarship: "Our family has set up a scholarship that is awarded through the Indianapolis Urban League. Mike and I did smaller grants for several years in the 90's, one for each set of parents. Two years ago we set up one Scholarship as a way to honor our parents and their commitment to education. This is the "Family Story" that I wrote for the printed program: "Like all African-American parents of their generation, our parents believed that education was the key to a better life for their children. They knew that getting there would not be easy, so they were clear about the need to study hard and to get good grades. They were tough sometimes, but mostly they were nurturing, supportive and inspiring by example. They wanted us to love learning and to stay focused on the goal of preparing ourselves for careers and lives that would make a difference for our children and our community. We became a teacher, a banker, a musician and a physician, and they were really, really proud. The Burke, Dabner, Rodman Scholarship Program gives us the opportunity to thank them and to give back in a way that honors them and recognizes all they did for us. "When the first scholarship was presented two years ago, our grandson made the presentation with his Grandad. It was a proud moment! Our family shared the luncheon table with the recipient and his mom, and our grandchildren got to see someone else who was working hard to go to college. And, perhaps they realized that their grandparents cared about educational opportunities for others as well as for them. It's another way we can set an example for them." -Kaaren Rodman THE STRETCH IT TAKES (Emily's Essay): Learning Out of School Education is not limited to just what happens in the classroom. And it definitely is a life-long endeavor. I am reading a book right now that talks about jazz legend John Coltrane, and in the book, I found something interesting that seems related to both my education and my stunning lack of it. The author, Robert Gelinas, is talking about Martin Luther King Jr.’s ultimate goal. He says, “it was grander than securing voting rights and achieving desegregation. He defined his mission as 'genuine intergroup and interpersonal living.' He [Dr. King] believed that the way you change society is by changing the human heart.” So while we often turn to books to be educated, we might need to look inside our hearts to see what’s been taught but needs to be “unlearned.” I am going to confess something that has been heavy on my heart since I was a young girl. This story happens when I was in third grade, so that makes it 1967. We were way past Jim Crow laws and even Brown vs. Board of Education. So while schools had been integrated for over 10 years by then,, I don’t remember a single black student at my elementary school in the suburbs of Buffalo, NY. Not one. Here’s my story. My teacher told us that we could sign up for a pen pal, and she would arrange that for us. I was very excited about it since I was a budding writer, eager to connect with someone through my craft. I was assigned a pen pal in Washington, D.C., and I was thrilled that I would learn more about our nation’s capital AND get to know a little girl my age at the same time. She and I wrote back and forth several times, and when our school pictures were taken in late fall, we decided to exchange a wallet picture as soon as we got them. I don’t remember my pen pal’s name. I wish I did. What I do remember is the feeling I had when her picture arrived tucked in her latest letter. She was black. Now let me make something clear. I don’t believe I was explicitly taught anything about black people that would’ve made me react the way I did. Although I was a keen observer of dinner table conversation. But I do believe that somehow I had gotten a message that black was bad or scary or just unfamiliar. And for that reason, as an eight-year-old, I threw away the letter and the picture, and I never wrote back. And for that I will always be regretful. I carry that guilt with me to this day...and if I could, I would tell my pen pal that I am sorry for what I did. I remember her picture...her face, her braided pigtails, her smile. She must have been heartbroken that I wouldn’t respond to her letters after that. Or, sadly, she was all too familiar with that reaction once she saw my picture. I have many questions about what was taught to me through that incident. Why did my teacher not ask me about it? Why did my parents not sit down with me and explain that she deserved a letter back? Why was it okay with the adults in my world to just go on as if nothing had happened? I did learn one thing. Silence and passivity are effective teachers. As I grew older, it mattered little that I had read in textbooks all sorts of historical accounts of our sordid history with black people. What would have been the best teacher would have been the adults in my life who would have worked to teach my heart about that history and ongoing prejudice. . Questions like - how do you feel when you look at her picture? And why do you feel that way? Or maybe guidance on what my pen pal might be feeling if I didn’t write back to her. My re-education about black people started late and has been an ongoing journey. I’ve learned a bit through good books, movies and deep discussions. And I realize that I need to listen with an open heart. To learn their stories. To heed the advice when I say something offensive or naive. To see color as it is, not what I imagine it to be. There is no way to educate myself out of prejudice without a heart change. And I am grateful that the black community is being patient with me, because while my school education took about 22 years - this change of heart, I’m afraid, is taking a lifetime. And it really didn’t start until way after being the worst penpal ever. As a grandparent, I’m hoping I can help speed things up for my grands, because everyone deserves a letter back when they send you their picture. © 2021 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/18029675

Grandparent Love, Part 2 02/15/2021

Grandparent Love, Part 2 The centerpiece of this episode is Emily's interview with best-selling author Barbara Graham, who has written about the collected experiences of gifted and famous grandmothers. There are lessons to be learned from her work... and from Emily's essay about loving our grands well with the time we find. Learn more about Emily's guest and her work at . The Stretch It Takes: Competing With Time (Emily's Essay) If there’s one thing that this pandemic has taught me, it’s that time looks and feels different to different people, depending on their age and their circumstances. When you’re young, Time is a sloth. It drags. You will never finish 3rd grade, you will never go to high school, you will never drive a car. When you’re in your middle years, Time speeds up a bit. You have to get that college essay finished, you have to update your resume, you have to finish painting the baby’s nursery. But, still, Time is taking its sweet self while you’re working towards that advanced degree, interviewing for a new job, or waiting for the birth of your baby. When you hit about the middle 50’s and beyond, Time accelerates. Your children are packing up and moving out; your basement is filled to the brim and needs a good cleaning; you have taxes, bills, and home improvements to schedule. And then when grandchildren come....Lord help us all. Time begins freelancing as the road runner. It’s out of control. At the same time you are slowing down considerably, Time is running laps around you, doubling back, and coming around again. This, I’ve concluded, is why a grandparent’s love is so intense. For an older individual, Time’s value has shot up like a good stock market investment. A year to a grandchild seems like an eternity. To a grandparent, it is just a blip. (A very important blip, because by the time you’re our age, blips are all you’ve got). So the intensity of wanting to see your grandchildren, to hug them, to embrace every moment is not borne out of need so much as awareness. You know that Time is playing its dirty trick on you; that this grandchild is only a child for a moment, and the pandemic is pocketing the moments like a skilled shoplifter at the grocery store. I find myself sometimes enraged that Time is winning. This pandemic has given Time a head start in a race I know will be over before I’m ready. Give me back the walks, the meet-ups at the ice cream parlor, the soccer games, and the birthday parties. I want them back now, I raise my fist and yell at Time. And yet...there Time goes, running circles around me, and around me, and around me. It’s very disorienting, and for many of us discouraging. We have had to stretch in a way that seems impossible. But we are strong and resilient, and (for the most part), not whiny. We have one advantage over Time. We have great love...and I believe Love beats Time every time. Love doesn’t run circles around people, it encircles people. While Time leaves us in the dust, Love showers us with warmth and happiness. So what do we do with the abundance of love for our grands that we possess? We lovingly remove the items Time has pocketed. We forgive Time its youth and inexperience, and we take Time to task. So much of what I’m learning about grandparenting is that I may not be able to control circumstances around me, but I can take charge of my own life, my grandparenting, and my intentions. There is a famous quote that says “time is non-refundable; use it with intention.” And so while I wish I could ask for a refund, I will do everything I can to redeem the Zoom calls, the notes I write, the FaceTime conversations, and the lucky moments when I get to see my grandchildren, even if masks and distance are required. Love wins. As for Time? Time won’t heal the wounds it has created during this pandemic, but Love can. © 2021 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/17933786

Grandparent Love, Part 1 02/08/2021

Spotlight on Emily 02/01/2021

Macular Degeneration? 01/20/2021

Recollections 6 01/11/2021

Recollections 6 Guests from Season 3 of the podcast share memories of their grandparent's work and careers--tagging along to work with them, and being shaped by their jobs and their work ethic. Emily also interviews a grandmother who's a business-executive-turned-filmmaker. EPISODE SHOW NOTES Emily's guest has produced Beyond Sixty Project, a new documentary film. Learn more . THE STRETCH IT TAKES (essay) We have a black and white picture of my grandfather’s business prominently displayed in our front hallway. He owned a car dealership and auto body shop with two gas pumps in front of it. In the photo, I can see my grandfather’s name proudly displayed in large block letters - the names Oldsmobile, Cadillac, and GMC Trucks surrounding it. By the time I remember visiting, he had moved into a much larger facility with huge plate glass windows and a big large showroom with shiny new cars parked inside. It was an awesome place to visit as a kid. When we visited my grandparents, he would often take us into his office and generously hand us plastic replicas of cars. I wish I had saved those. I remember the doors of the model cars would open and close. Sometimes the trunks would even open. I loved running my hand across the glossy paint of the toy car and imagining myself driving it off the lot. My grandfather’s office opened up into a larger space where my Uncle Paul and Great Uncle Stanley had desks. My second cousin Jean Elsie worked there, too. I knew that my Dad had worked there as a young man as well. It was definitely an old-fashioned family business. My Uncle Stanley always had dimes in his pocket to dole out to us, and as soon as I got my hands on that dime, I ran into the service area to spend it on a cold Orange Crush that I pulled out of one side of the bright red and white Coke Machine. Air ratchets chattered through the service bays as I pushed the lever, opened the slim door on the left, and grabbed the cold bottle by the neck and pulled. The machine released the goods with some resistance. Happily, I’d pop the top off the bottle with the can opener that was tucked into the front panel of the machine. Cold Orange Crush never tasted so good. Once refreshed, I would head out to the gas pumps to “help” the customers. When a car would drive over the black rubber hose outside, a bell would ring inside to alert the staff of a new customer. I would run out ahead and try my best to offer to pump the gas. I remember the staff and customers being kind and generous with my attempts. I also remember a slight reprimand for crawling on the hood of a car, squeegee in hand, to wash the front windshield. My eagerness had met my limits. I was way too short to try that again. And I’m sure the customers didn’t appreciate my hand and footprints on the hood of their car. It was such a different time, where people would ask if I was Gerald’s granddaughter and pat me on the head when they realized I was. I was part of a legacy, and I sensed that in my grandfather’s workplace. When I pump gas now and smell the fumes, I often think about my grandfather. I can’t go into a service bay of our local Chevy Dealer without wishing I could have a bottle of Orange Crush. This is the thing. We are programmed for connection, and our memories are linked strongly to our senses. So what memories am I building with my grandchildren that they will someday recall? Our workplaces are often our homes. Will they connect the two? Will they reminisce about our workplaces the way I do with my grandparents’ place of business? It’s definitely going to be a stretch, since work and home are now so intertwined. It’s hard not to look back and wish for the old days...but instead, I am going to look forward and think about how I can help my grands understand what I do, and how it gives me so much more freedom to see them because I don’t walk through a big glass door into a physical workplace. I, instead, live in a virtual world of writing, editing, and creating content for this podcast, which gives me the flexibility to stop by for visits, or have the grands over for lunch or an afternoon of book reading and playing. Yes, the workplace has changed, but what hasn’t is that I am building memories with my grands that will last a lifetime. © 2021 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/17490272

Grandparenting Teens 12/28/2020

Grandparenting Teens Being a parent of teenagers is a challenge you have to experience to appreciate. When we grandparent teens, our wisdom and experience should make us better at it... but do they? Emily talks with a teen, two parents, and a grandparent to explore this dynamic, which is both familiar and new all at once. The Stretch It Takes is a guest essay from grandma and business consultant Pamela Dennis. EPISODE NOTES Grandma Judy's help and ideas on grandparent camps is at and on Facebook at . THE STRETCH IT TAKES (guest essay, Pamela Dennis) We were the “let’s do crafts” Gramma and the “let’s go catch a snake” ‘Ampa to our first two grandkids. We had sleepovers and times at Martha’s Vineyard -- without parents-- collecting shells, fishing, and having lobster races! For our second two, far away, we flew out for visits to cheer at soccer and lacrosse games or to attend their in-home music recitals. Being a grandparent to young children was carefree, exhausting but gratifying, and created a deep connection. How it changes when they are teenagers. It can feel like a stretch. I ask myself: Why don’t I feel as close? Am I still relevant in this child’s life? What can we still do together? How do I make a difference that matters to them? I decided to explore these questions with my grandkids who are between 13 and 23 and my sister, also a grandmother to teens. Here’s what I learned. Deep down they are the same kids, needing to feel unconditionally loved, but now also needing to feel respected as individuals who are exploring who they are, what they believe, where to go next – without being judged. You didn’t judge them when they decided on the color to paint the garden rock and now you don’t judge them for the color they dye their hair or if they get a tattoo. Back then you encouraged them to “try it at least once” whether a vegetable or activity. Our stretch now is to empower them to make their own decisions: what college, what car to buy or whether to break up with a boyfriend. Maybe we don’t’ hug them on our lap anymore; instead the hug looks like listening and empathizing with their anxiety. The stretch is to do more paraphrasing, less telling and more just ‘checking in’ on how they are coping with it all. Your experience, perspective, and wisdom matter! Funny how they didn’t matter with your own kids, but now that you are almost pre-historic, their kids want to hear ‘what was it like for you when….?” I tested my 15 year old granddaughter, “but It’s such a different world now.” Her reply was, that while it’s different in many ways, “love is still love when a boy breaks your heart. I want to hear your experience and perspective.” Technology matters, but not as I imagined. It’s both an enabler and a symbol. While we don’t all have to do Snap Chat and Instagram, knowing how to connect to grandkids using their modes vs ours, says you are reaching out to relate with them in their world. Granted it’s not as rewarding to us as a phone call, but it fits their time demands and frankly, their attention spans. By the way, it improves your “street cred”! My grandson once bragged to his friends that his grandparents knew how to text! And another teen said to his sister one evening (overheard by their grandmother) “I bet mom doesn’t even know what a meme is, but ha ha Grandpa and Gram do!” Finally, don’t buy into the myth that teens don’t want to do things with their grandparents. When we took our 16-year-old to Paris and London for 2 weeks, a friend asked, “Why would a 16-year-old want to hang out with you two old people?” The teen remembers it this way, “Being with my grandparents has always been a special occasion, even if it’s just coming over to make crepes for breakfast. That trip introduced me to my first crepe on a street in Paris so it’s a special memory we share now. I always learn something with them and from their experiences. I may have helped them in the underground metro, but they helped me want to see the world. Where are we going next?” When I asked our grandson, who had just returned from an Air Force deployment what made him want to ‘hang out’ with his grandfather (especially now that he’s newly married) he texted a touching note. He wrote, “I believe the bond grandpa and I formed from when I was a baby keeps us close today. Throughout my childhood he was always there, influencing my hobbies, teaching me to shoot, fish, golf, and build things. His wise words, cheesy jokes, and good attitude toward life, stays in my memories and motivates me even today: joining the military, drinking Fat Tire, eating greasy burgers in dive restaurants. I look forward to hanging out and making more memories when I’m on the golf course with him again.” Now with the Corona virus, their world is upside down with great anxiety and stress. The stretch for us is to keep that relationship strong for their emotional health -- and for ours! © 2020 Pamela Dennis /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/17330612

Good Riddance 2020 12/21/2020

The Daughter-in-Law Relationship 12/14/2020

The Daughter-in-Law Relationship The challenges of a daughter-in-law relationship are common, and they're not insurmountable--but working them out takes good communication, inclusivity, selfness, and love in action over time. (Sounds like grandparenting!) Emily's guests are two authors who have done a lot of thinking and writing about this rich but sensitive topic. Plus, Emily describes how her mother-in-law relationship started, then ended early (transcript below). EPISODE NOTES Guest Donne Davis runs an online social network, the . Her book is Guest Ellie Slott Fisher is the author of THE STRETCH IT TAKES (Emily's essay) My first visit to my future husband’s family was significant for me. I was in graduate school in the college town where he lived, and his family lived a two hour drive away. We had only been dating for about six weeks, but we both knew almost immediately that we had a long future together. So the next step seemed obvious...he should take me home for Thanksgiving to meet his mom and dad before I left for a winter semester abroad. I remember riding in the passenger seat up the winding driveway to his old Kentucky home. White fences, horses, a red barn and a beautiful home. It was impressive and so different from my New England roots. In fact everything seemed different from that moment on. The southern accents, the giblet gravy made with hard-boiled egg yolks, bourbon balls, and the slow conversation with long pauses. I was greeted kindly and warmly, yes, greeted with true southern hospitality. But it didn’t take long before my curt, New England style of speech shot out of my mouth when at the dinner table, my future father-in-law kept insisting - in a kind way, but persistently - that I enjoy some more turkey and stuffing. I replied, “you can serve it to me, but I probably won’t eat it.” I remember that there was a long pause, and then an awkward laugh...except for my father-in-law. His laugh revealed to me that he admired a woman who knew her own mind. We bonded immediately. It was a little harder with my future husband’s mom. Her youngest son was the apple of her eye, her golden boy. I could tell by everything she said that she was happy for him, but was unsure of me. She greeted me kindly, told me at one point that I had bedroom eyes, and graciously endured the indignity of a fart in her face when she was teaching me a Jane Fonda floor routine. It was humiliating for me, but fortunately, hilarious to her. She was by all accounts a lovely woman who was not only beautiful, but also kind and accepting. We had our moments in the year and a half that I knew her. When talking about wedding plans I mentioned that I might not want children in the wedding. She took that to mean that I didn’t want any children at the wedding, which really upset her. I ran away from the conversation, crying and feeling very misunderstood. One time, unaware of how meticulously she washed dishes before she put them in the dishwasher, I accidentally unloaded her dirty dishes into the cabinets. And another time I brought down dirty sheets from upstairs and was reminded that I needed to ask before stripping the bed. She had not intended for me to do that. I say all these things, not to disparage my mother-in-law, but to illustrate that booby traps are everywhere when navigating the mother-in-law, daughter-in-law relationship. And, as you can tell from my essay, once detonated, forever remembered. She lived only six weeks from the diagnosis of her lung cancer to her untimely death. The last time I saw her before her illness was when we were car shopping. We stopped by a dealership where my in-laws knew the owner very well. While my husband and father-in-law were engaged in a conversation, she and I stood next to a red convertible with white leather seats. My mother-in-law leaned over and playfully said to me, “Can’t you just imagine the backseat filled with two car seats?” Her banter stuck with me for two reasons: one, having a baby after only a year of marriage seemed like a crazy notion. Way too soon, I thought, to be thinking about that. Secondly, now that I look back on it, I am so sad that my mother-in-law didn’t live long enough to see that happen. Not the purchase of a red convertible, but the birth of our four lovely children whom she would never meet. Here’s the thing: there was a lot of potential in our relationship for good and for bad, but I like to think that we would both have leaned towards the good. We grew up in extremely different regions of the country and looked at things in different ways, but we had many shared values, a shared love of children, and most importantly, a shared love for the man I married. Even though I didn’t get to experience what it’s like to have a long relationship with my mother-in-law, I like to think that we would’ve worked out our differences and come together to make our visits and holidays together ones to cherish. I take that hope into my relationship with my new daughter-in-law of only three years. I can’t say I’m not nervous about making mistakes - I know I’ve already made a few - but with my virtual vision board, I picture years of warm conversations, affirmations, meals together, and many happy shared experiences. And if I’m lucky enough to be around and she suggests I sit in the front seat of the car with my son, I will counteroffer with “no, thanks, you sit up with him.” Then I’ll take the back seat where I hope someday there might be a baby’s car seat next to me. © 2020 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/17165276

Grandparents With Careers 11/30/2020

Grandparents With Careers Some grandparents have taken on the grand role while still holding onto their jobs. In this episode, Emily studies this balancing act with an author-educator, two grandmas still at work, and an adult daughter. What do they all get from the combination, and what is the cost? SHOW NOTES Author and educator Madonna Harrington Meyer's book is . Therapist Pam Siegel and co-author Leslie Zinberg wrote . The website was co-founded by Leslie. THE STRETCH IT TAKES (Emily's Essay) When I was a young mother, I worked as a journalist, a technical writer and an adjunct professor. I finished my Master’s degree soon after I got married and enjoyed a few years of writing and teaching before we started to have children. After our second child, I started to feel overwhelmed and frustrated trying to both work and care for our growing family. My husband and I decided together that I would stop working. We would have to live on less and be okay with that. For me, it was an easy decision. If it meant we would own a house with a tiny kitchen, no dishwasher, no air conditioning , and a washer and dryer in a dank, old basement, in exchange for more time with the children, that was a fair trade. Of course, I realize now that even having the choice not to work was extreme luxury. It was beyond privilege for me to be living in a single-family home with two cars and plenty of heat and water. I was one of the lucky ones. However, I don’t think I realized then what I know now. If you step back from work and career to care for your children, you have most likely exited the pathway to financial success. It’s true for both men and women. It is very hard to climb back up a ladder when the rungs are no longer there. I say all this to remind you that this is still as true now as it was when we were young parents. And it has ramifications for your future as a grandparent. We live in an age where grandparents who voluntarily stepped off the ladder are usually the grandmothers. The grandfathers, for the most part, continued in the workplace, and are now enjoying the flexible work schedules and higher incomes that they have “earned” for their career perseverance. There is little expectation that they might be the ones taking care of the grandchildren. For me, I stayed out of the workplace long enough that when I got back in it (when our four children were high-school aged) I was qualified only for entry level positions. I became a secretary at a school in our district so that I would have the same hours as my children. But the pay was low and the work much more intense than what I might have been doing, had I stayed the course. I often joked as I stapled colored paper borders on the school lobby bulletin board, that this is why I got my master’s degree. Honestly, it was a hard pill to swallow. Fast forward to now. I am a grandmother with very little job advancement in my occupational outlook. In fact, so little that it hardly seems worth it to me. I don’t see investing time in a menial job while my grandchildren are growing up so fast that if I don’t take the time to see them, they will be adults before I know it. But there’s always that same push and pull that I felt as a mother. If I work, I have extra money to do things I’d like to do for my kids. If I don’t work, I have the time with them but not the money. Again, I know that I speak from a place of privilege where I can actually decide that I want to live simply and do not need a job just to survive. Same thing applies now as it did then. Except now I’m a grandmother, and I can be the grandmother who doesn’t work and has the time to be with my grands OR I can be the grandmother who works hard, has plenty of money to do fun things, but hasn’t got the time to do them. I know it’s not as black and white as I’m portraying it to be. There are plenty of women who do both. And I applaud them. And I’m assuming that, as some of my guests will attest, there is a way to find that delicate balance. But then, I wonder about the grandfathers? Do they feel that same tug-of-war between careers and grandchildren? I like to imagine in the future that men and women will feel the push-pull equally and might find a balanced equilibrium between the two. Most likely, in the future, grandfathers will watch their grandchildren one or two days a week, and then work the other days. Maybe grandmothers can do the same without penalty or worries about losing their jobs. Maybe both can advance their careers while still investing time with their grandchildren and making enough money to support both their wants and needs. Wouldn’t that be a lovely thing? © 2020 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/16985456

Grandparent Caregivers 11/16/2020

Grandparent Caregivers Grandparents who become caregivers for their grands are taking on a big challenge--lots of physical and mental work, and a wonderful payoff, potentially. This episode is packed with observations and insights from experts, grandparents, and moms. SHOW NOTES Fern Schumer Chapman is the co-author of . Rolanda T. Pyle is the author of and has a with ideas and observations on grandparenting. For more info and resources for grandparents, she recommends: --local area agencies on aging --Kinship Navigator programs in your area --Generations United --Grandfamilies.org EMILY'S ESSAY (The Stretch It Takes) With nine grandchildren, five of whom live within a mile of me, I figured it was only a matter of time before I might be called upon to help with childcare. I looked forward to the chance, and so when one of our daughters who was working as a nurse asked me if I could watch her baby, our newest granddaughter, I was thrilled. I saw it as a chance to bond in a way that I had missed with our first four grandchildren who lived a long distance away. I was also happy to brush up on the newest child care methods and equipment. It had been a long time since I had used a car seat, a baby swing, or a nursery monitor. Surely all these things would come in handy! I wondered if I would be rusty when it came to changing diapers ,or rocking a baby to sleep. Here’s some of what I learned. I learned that when you’re in your mid-50s, buckling and unbuckling a car seat can be painful. Discerning the movements on a blurry nanny cam can sometimes be tricky. And bouncing a fretful baby can be hard on the legs. But what I didn’t need to re-learn was how to love and snuggle a newborn. That came back to me in an instant. There is nothing like nuzzling the crook of a baby's neck for me to feel unparalleled euphoria. And eliciting a smile from that little baby was like someone had handed me a gift I got to unwrap over and over. Those things came easy, and often, in those early days of caring for her. The other thing that came back to me in an instant was my lack of boundaries. I had a hard time saying no when called upon to fill in or stay longer. What’s interesting about taking care of an infant is that whether it’s your own baby or your grandbaby, the issue of taking care of yourself still comes into play. Is there a point in your grandparenting where you need to step in and say you can’t do something? Yes. It’s hard. We want to be there for our children and our grandchildren, but honestly, it’s taxing and tiring, and we do have limits...at least I do. My adult children have taught me that boundaries are important. I didn’t have boundaries as a young mother. I sacrificed and gave of myself so much. Too much. I remember fantasizing about having to be hospitalized just so I could get some rest. I had given birth to four children in four and half years, and I was perpetually exhausted. And now as a grandmother, with more limitations on my stamina and a gaggle of grandchildren to support with time and energy, I am realizing that there are times when I have to say “no, thank you, not today” when I’m called to watch a grandchild or attend a soccer game, or go to the zoo. What has been wonderful to watch is that my own children have developed boundaries of their own. They set aside family time, they decline sometimes when I invite them over to dinner, and they aren’t always quick to come over and help if they are otherwise engaged. I support that, and am trying hard to adopt that way of thinking. I have learned from them that I don’t always have to say, “Yes” and that what I want is equally important in the equation. This has not been easy for me. Saying yes, for me, was the same as saying I love you. I forget that I need to love myself sometimes. It’s getting easier as I go. I have figured out a good balance. Sometimes I willingly make sacrifices, and other times I recognize I have reached a limit. For the most part, I have removed the word “should” from my vocabulary. I also am less generous with the words “I’m sorry” and use that only when I’m looking for true forgiveness, not when I’m just placating someone. The best part of boundaries is this: if you model them, then others around you will do the same and there will be much less resentment and tension. I didn’t do a great job of it as a young mom, but fortunately, I have been given a second chance as a grandmother to show my grandchildren what it means to stand up for themselves... and to measure their own happiness not by what they should do, but what they want to do...for the good of themselves, and others. © 2020 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/16814807

Estrangement 11/02/2020

Estrangement What are we to do when we are blocked from having a relationship with our grands by their parents--our own children? Emily explores this hard topic with a social researcher and author, an estranged grandparent who helps others manage, and a Millennial dad who shut down his relationship with his mother for the good of his family. RESOURCES , a resource for support groups and related insights mentioned by Dr. Pat Hanson (2nd guest) Books mentioned or written by this episode’s guests: by Amanda by Dr. Joshua Coleman or Not by Dr. Pat Hanson (2nd guest) by Dr. Karl Pillemer (3rd guest) THE STRETCH IT TAKES (Emily's essay) I’m sure you’re not new to the term “Cancel Culture.” It seems to have hit us hard during these long, sequestered days of COVID. According to Wikipedia, the term cancel culture is defined as “the practice of withdrawing support for (or canceling) public figures and companies after they have done or said something considered objectionable or offensive.” But doesn’t it seem like more? We speak of “cancelling” the people we are in relationship with when something is said or done that we consider objectionable or offensive. At lunch with a friend recently, I nodded in agreement when she said of a recent Facebook breakup, “I would never say the things I say on Facebook if I was talking to her face to face.” It’s true. We are much more likely to unfriend people on social media, if they don’t agree with us, than if they were standing in front of us. Sadly, unfriending people is becoming all too common. There’s an attitude of “I’m done with you,” that seems both pervasive and hurtful. And often leads to great regret. My guest Dr. Pillemer, in his book Fault Lines, says that one of the major barriers to reconnection is the urge to align two different views of the past...to reach a common understanding of what has happened. If you can’t come to agreement with an estranged family member about the past, the odds of having a present or future together are pretty low. While his book is about fractured families with difficult pasts, I’m talking about the present culture, and I see so many of us willing to forgo friendships because we can’t align our points of view over what’s happening in our country. So, as Dr. Pillemer also points out, in order to reconcile, we first have to accept that our points of view might never align. That is hard to do. That is a stretch... a painful one. But the reality is, we do not have to believe the same thing to be friends. We might not even have any shared values but instead a very long shared past. We might just have to agree to disagree, like John Adams and Thomas Jefferson or Justice Scalia and Ginsburg. We might even have to set boundaries where we agree not to talk about what we disagree about. But the point is, should we throw away a relationship because we cannot agree on something we hold dear but the other does not? Is it possible for us to put ourselves in the shoes of the other and see something for a moment from their point of view? I know this is tender for many of us. We are hurting and hoping that somehow or another we will experience a peaceful world -- not one that is constantly plunging us into conflict. But I would suggest that the same things that work to reconcile a fractured family can help to heal a fractured world. Things like civility, respect, mercy, forgiveness...not just from or for the people we agree with, but from and for the ones we don’t. One passage from the book Fault Lines sums up how I feel about any kind of reconciliation. This quote is referring to a severed relationship that eventually was made whole. Quote: “It may take many years, but a point was reached when the past mattered less than the present and future did.” We are grandparents. We have a past, which for many of us was the biggest and busiest part of our life story. As parents we had the authority and the power to lead and nurture our families in the direction we chose. But we cannot live in our past. We need to make the present and the future the most important thing, for our children and our children’s children. If that isn’t good reason to flex and stretch, then I’m not sure what is. © 2020 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/16568522

Recollections 5 10/19/2020

Recollections 5 What hobbies have you embraced that your grandchildren will remember, or perhaps adopted themselves? Emily presents a mash-up of recollections from her Season 3 guests who remember the hobbies of their own grandparents, Plus, a bonus interview with a super-fun grandma from Georgia and her wild-and-crazy grandkid camp. Listener advisory: there are fart noises. The Stretch It Takes (Emily's Essay): I Do Have One I recently watched a movie where a young woman was given a to-do list by her therapist...a list to help her grow as a person. It included, among other things, “do something you loved doing as a child” something, her therapist said, that was a source of joy. In the movie, the woman chose drinking a Cherry Soda. Pretty simple, but it made her very happy. I started to wonder: what would that be for me? Maybe getting back in touch with my first grade self might actually help me find my hobby. You see...I’ve struggled finding one. I play the piano, but haven’t for a long while. I read books, I like to cook, and I sometimes like to garden. I definitely love decorating my house (but that feels more like an addiction than a hobby). In the first season of The Grand Life podcast, I had a segment called “Passing Along Your Passion.” I would interview people about their hobbies, and I got so many good responses...sewing, horseback riding, music...you name it. I started thinking...what kind of passion am I passing along to my grands? What do they see me enjoying and feeling passionate about besides them? Don’t get me wrong, I definitely have no problem admitting that I’m passionate about my grands...but I would like to give them a fuller picture of me. A picture that includes something I like, something I do for myself, something that gives me great joy. Heading back to my first grade self, I liked two things: writing and pretending to host a talk show. Yes...that’s what I did. And oh, yes, I also like fudgsicles. So there you have it. My passion has been here all along. I’m realizing that my six-year-old self isn’t so different from my 60-year-old self. I still love writing, and I love talking to people on this podcast. I have always wanted a radio show. I vividly remember as an 8-year-old sitting in a circle at Grace Baptist Church in Tonawanda NY when my Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Sears, asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said I wanted to host a TV talk show like Merv Griffin, Mike Douglas, and Dinah Shore. She recoiled and asked me if I could think of something different. I really couldn’t, but I regrouped and said I wanted to be a mother. Mrs. Sears reported, sternly, to my mother that I wanted to be on TV and perhaps that instead of a worthy goal I had chosen a worldy one. Fortunately, my mother took my side on the matter, laughed it off, and later told me not to worry about disappointing Mrs. Sears. I guess I knew myself pretty well. What I told Mrs. Sears proved to be true. I love being a mother (and now a grandmother), a writer and now a podcast host, so I suppose it wasn’t much of a stretch after all. I think the hardest thing for me was realizing that what I love doesn’t really fit the traditional definition of a hobby. In my own definition, though, it works just fine. Writing and hosting a podcast is an extension of myself: it gives me joy, and it’s something that my grands can even participate in with me (if you listen to the end of each episode, you’ll hear their voices). So what’s your hobby? What have you found to be the thing that brings you joy and is the obvious extension of yourself? If you don’t have anything like that, maybe a good long stretch is in order. As our own adult children would say, “you do you.” It’s never too late to start doing something that brings a new sort of fullness to your life. And the possibilities are endless. It can be as simple as drinking a Cherry Soda and as complicated as volunteering or developing an interest you had way back when you were six years old. Or, maybe, sitting on the porch enjoying a good fudgsicle will do the trick. (c) 2020 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/16440260

Grandchildren and Their Devices 10/05/2020

Grandchildren and Their Devices So many of our grandchildren have an overpowering connection to their handheld computing and gaming devices. They steal focus from the time we spend together, but it's the "new normal" in many households. How can a grandparent accept the reality without encouraging the intrusion? Emily talks with three guests who bring their personal and professional expertise to the challenge. SHOW NOTES Guest Emily Cherkin can answer your questions through her service and website, Emily's second guest, Jennifer Fink, runs the parenting site . She mentions the "Moral Combat: Why The War On Violent Video Games is Wrong" by Christopher J. Ferguson. Jennifer's podcast, , recently had Emily as a guest to . Here's a on YouTube. Rhonda Moskowitz provides coaching through her business and website, . She is active with (and mentioned) the , a great resource for parents and educators. And here's our personal history of personal computers. How does this compare to your own? 1983 Apple II Plus with 48 kilobytes of memory, a green screen monitor, and two floppy disk drives. And a joystick to play a helicopter game. 1987 IBM PC XT with 128 kilobytes of memory, a 10 megabyte hard drive, and an external 1200-baud telephone modem for CompuServe. 1990 generic PC clone we bought at Montgomery Ward with a 20 megabyte hard drive and color monitor, and a faster modem for America Online. 1992 Compaq Elite mini notebook with a built in trackball for word processing without a mouse. 1995, the first of a succession of IBM PC clones Mike built out of separate components, upgrading parts that would fail or become obsolete, as if we were in some science fiction movie. (Continues to this day) 2003 Toshiba laptop for the oldest to take to college, which gave us our first hard drive crash. 2006 First MacBook (for #3 to take to college) 2013 my first real laptop, an Acer Ultrabook with Windows 7 2014 my first iPhone (iPhone 4) 2015 our first iPad (iPad 2) Today, we're on our 2nd Mac, 6th homebuilt PC, 4th laptop, 2nd iPad, and Emily is on her 3rd iPhone. How about you? Send us an . The Stretch It Takes (Emily's essay) Technology is a stretch for most of us. I’ve talked to people a little older than I am who are just now retiring, and they say the technology in the workplace was just getting to be too much. I get it! Most of my work has been in office support kinds of jobs. What began as writing down phone messages on pink “while you were out” pads has now become forwarded emails. What used to be literal pasting newsletters together with liquid cement has become searching the Internet for images, digital cutting and pasting, and learning each new version of page layout software. Meanwhile, meetings that used to take place in the conference room must now be set up and attended virtually. All of these things have not only changed the way we do things. They have changed the people who do them. They have changed us forever. This is the stretch. How far do we flex before we actually fall over? I can’t be the only one who gets frustrated and worn out by it all. I remember the first time I saw a computer, in 1967. It was large and looming, and I was only 8 years old. My dad was taking classes at a state university in Buffalo and I tagged along to join him at the computer lab. We walked into the building and to my right was a glass-walled room that housed the computer. It was massive….like 24 feet long massive. Every time someone went in and out of the room, the pressurized, conditioned air made the glass doors swish like a shower door, and I braced for the cold breeze to hit my face. I was mesmerized by the clattering reel-to-reel tape circling backwards and forwards. To my left, people were typing at each station, as manilla cards were being punched by each stroke of the keyboard. The machine would spit out those IBM cards in neat little stacks. My dad handed me a stack with a rubber band around it before we left. The rectangular punches on each card didn’t line up, but the angled cut on one corner did. I was all at once fascinated and frightened. What kind of world had I just encountered? By the next time I saw a computer, it was a fraction of the size, and only needed a window air conditioner to keep it happy. I was working in an office setting, assisting a small cadre of computer engineers at the University of New Hampshire. My job was to collect the large white stacks that the engineer’s computer printers spat out. I took it upon myself to rip off the punched holes on the edges of the paper before delivering to an engineer a neat accordion-pleated pile of pages. I had no idea how to read Fortran, but that was the language the computer spoke...at least to the engineers who were fluent in it. My husband and I became proud owners of a computer in 1982 that was smaller still--small enough to sit on our desk. Our Apple II Plus had 48 Kilobytes of memory, a green screen monitor, two floppy disk drives, and a joystick to play helicopter games. We were so cutting-edge that our local magazine in Bowling Green, Kentucky ran a feature story about us being one of the first members of our community to own such a device. I loved it, until my graduate school thesis committee decided that since I had such a grand device, it wouldn’t be too much for them to ask me to continually make changes to my thesis… which was about The Industrial Revolution. Ironic, isn’t it? We are now heading into what experts are calling The Fourth Industrial Revolution. Computers have gone from mammoth to micro. The next step might be computers that have more real than real estate about them. We are nearing the point at which computers are going to integrate with humanity in a way that might be indistinguishable. Eventually, our grandchildren might not be able to tell the difference between real and virtual. So what do we do with that? I sometimes long for the days when children played with nothing more than their imaginations. When an afternoon consisted of sitting in front of a fan in your unairconditioned home, making weird mouth noises for entertainment. But I don't want to be THAT grandparent. I don’t want to be a “back-in-the-day” kind of person. So I stretch. I learn as much as I can, and lean into the virtual worlds of Minecraft and Animal Crossing and try to participate with my grands as much as possible. All the while, I’m hoping that they will find pleasure in the real world beyond games and devices. I figure I’ll join them in both worlds and hope that the real one wins the day - and that they can still tell the difference between the two. --(c) 2020 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/16266275

Earning, Spending, Saving 09/21/2020

Earning, Spending, Saving Every family handles, and teaches about, money differently. In this episode, Emily talks with three people about earning, spending, and saving, and how they grandparent (and parent) around the topic of money. SHOW NOTES Tim Sheehan's service lets your grands manage cash using a plastic card instead of currency. If they have one, you can to their cards. The Stretch It Takes: Money (Emily's Essay) Money is kind of a funny concept. And let’s face it, even in its most tangible forms - bills and coins - money is still more of an idea than a reality. Our cold, hard cash transmits the concepts of buying power, value, and worth. When we have it in our hands, we can exchange it for goods and services. Sometimes we trade it for a piece of paper that says it’s invested somewhere - like the stock market - a place we can’t really see or touch or even predict. I have been thinking a lot about money and how I learned about it as a child. I imagine myself at the edge of a lake that has stepping stones to the other side. On the other side is...not a pot of gold...but a clearer understanding of the gold in the pot. Here’s how, as an adult, I reached the other side. As you listen, see if that resembles anything like your journey: In my early years up until age 7 maybe, I really only understood the concept of FREE, and it looked like this:. If I went to a store and I wanted something, my parents usually bought it for me. A little later, my understanding of FREE expanded to include the quid pro quo: things that are given to you but require something in return. The free pretzels at the deli IF my mom bought some liverwurst or pastrami. The “FREE” Sno-Cones at Vacation Bible School, if I sat through a couple of hours of hymns and bible verse memorization. The FREE Christmas gifts from my grandparents as long as I sent a thank you note. This taught me that usually FREE means there are strings attached. From age 7-12, I learned that if you work for something, you can get something back. But usually it costs someone else something. I followed my older sister around the neighborhood, selling toothbrushes with her so she could earn a transistor radio. My Brownie and Girl Scout friends sold cookies to earn prizes. The Avon lady sat at our kitchen table and sold my mom lipstick and bubble bath. But besides that, I had no other concept of working to earn money. I’m not sure it ever really occurred to me that my dad was working to earn the things we enjoyed. They were just always there. Before the age of 12, I didn’t really have my own money - except for the occasional quarter from the tooth fairy. My parents didn’t give me an allowance. Most years, at Christmas I’d receive a 5 dollar check from my nana and grandpa. The only time I remember earning money was once when my grandmother handed me a five dollar bill for helping her clean up all the holiday dishes. But my parents made me give it back. They said “we help others to be kind, not to get money.” I was devastated. I had helped out of the goodness of my heart, yes, but my grandmother was giving me 5 dollars out of the goodness of hers, and it felt wrong to deny her the pleasure ( and my own at receiving it). I have now navigated four stones across the pond. The next one was a rather large and fairly slippery leap. From ages twelve to 18, I earned babysitting money, took a recordkeeping class in high school, and finally was set up with a checkbook as I headed off to college. I earned spending money by working catering during the school year, and spent my summer breaks working in various office jobs. But the biggest lesson about money came when my parents lost a business to bankruptcy. That’s where I learned that money is a bridge to so many things...friendships, inclusion, and most importantly peace of mind. When you go from having a lot to having nearly nothing, when the bottom drops out of your own supply-and-demand chain, when you have to go to the grocery store and pay for things using food stamps, your perspective about money really changes. And for the first time, I was very aware of all the people in the world who weren’t fortunate enough to carry around that wad of cash that I had...or used to have. The next stepping stone was watching my mom and dad dig out of the financial hole they were in during my final college summers. To earn his unemployment check, my dad had to work menial jobs. This is a man with three advanced degrees...two of them from Ivy League colleges. I remember watching him making a poster for a nursing home to teach the residents good eating habits. The basement of our duplex became a boilerroom operation for finding another job. And he finally landed a great one that took him and my mother to Belgium where I was able to join on my breaks from graduate school. Money is definitely status. Money is not about making good choices...it’s about having good choices to make. Once again the stepping stones became easy...and I lived a carefree life for a while, traveling with friends across Europe, taking graduate classes in Oxford, and enjoying my parents’ newfound freedom and wealth. The lesson learned: having money is always easier than not having money. The next stepping stone was marriage and family. Adulting: the realization that my husband and I were solely responsible for our future. If I chose not to work and instead stay home and be with our children, then we would have to learn to live on less. I learned that money doesn’t buy happiness and that time is a commodity, just like money. Finally, as a grandparent, I am learning that money doesn’t equal relationships. I may not be the most wealthy grandparent. It turns out I’m not the one who provides lavish trips and gifts for our grands. But I can shower them with love and adoration, and with my physical presence. I knew this already, but it has really hit home for me now. Money certainly cannot buy love. I am now on the other side of that lake and staring into the pot of gold that will be our retirement. I am now realizing that there are new money lessons I will have to learn from this day forward. Maybe it will be that when money runs out, you are glad you invested in your family because they are the ones who will be there for you. Or...if we run out before our money does, then we have the privilege of passing on something to our children and grandchildren. That might be the pot of gold in and of itself. But either way, I know one thing - it’s not about the money. --(c) 2020 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/16080350

A Grandparents Day Tribute Poem 09/13/2020

Do Grandparents Matter? 09/07/2020

Do Grandparents Matter? Dealing with the Pandemic has triggered some hard questions for Emily that are bigger than grandparenting. Older people have a tougher time recovering from COVID-19 infection, making our futures a bit more uncertain. Emily is asking: are we living lives well-lived? And what can change at this late hour? She interviews a filmmaker, a researcher, and a young parent with perspectives and riveting stories about grandparents who have lived well. RESOURCES Skye Bergman's film is Lives Well Lived: Receive her newsletter by writing to . You can , , and see other films of hers: (password: Mochi) and . Emily cites this in The Indiana Lawyer commemorating the passing of attorney Larry Reuben in 2015. The Stretch It Takes (Emily's essay): Searching For Meaning COVID has really changed the trajectory of so many of our lives. Before COVID, most of us were moving in a specific direction with very clear goals and hopes and dreams. We were busy, sometimes too busy. Now it feels like we are each floating in a very small pool with nothing to do but doggie paddle. My arms are tired. How about you? I question myself almost \every day. Am I making the most of this life? Have the choices I’ve already made make it impossible for me to change direction if I don’t like the way things are going? Can I be a better self and offer that to my adult children and grandchildren? If this week was my last week on earth would it be said of me, as it has of others, that I led a well-lived life? I think I have come up with a few answers. I would love to hear yours, but for the meantime, let me share what comes to mind. I’m thinking there are a few important things to remember in order to live well. Know yourself - we’ve talked about this several times in the podcast, but most notably on the episode about Enneagrams. In this episode we learned that knowing yourself is the first step to making peace with the world and your adult children. It also provides you with some wisdom to pursue healthy relationships with your grands. Pursue your passion - there is a lot to be said for being a doting, devoted and passionate grandparent and perhaps you have made that your passion. But try to remember that grandchildren grow up in the same way your own children did. We have seen in so many episodes that hobbies and passions are important to pursue as we grow older. It gives us a way to give back to people, and that is always life-giving. Work hard - It’s easy to get lazy as we grow older Both physically and mentally. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with leisurely mornings and quiet evenings. But hard work is a way to stay useful and young! Try not to shy away from doing the hard things, learning something new, taking a chance and falling. Stay relevant - resist the urge to look at the future in a negative way. You can still appreciate the past without damning the future. Explore what is predicted and what is present. Attempt to look forward...even in conversation. It’s important to say YES to what is to come and reserve NO in conversation only when absolutely necessary or when you feel your boundaries are being ignored. The older people I most love and admire are people who exhibit these traits. They are young at heart and fun to be around. They have stretched themselves and stayed flexible. They do not have to search for meaning because they have actually found it. I guarantee that none of them have perfect lives, but instead, they have lives well lived. That’s the goal. That’s the challenge. --(c) 2020 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/15875909

Bonus: Millennial Parent Weighs In 08/18/2020

Know Yourself to Be Grand 06/15/2020

Know Yourself to Be Grand The better we understand ourselves, the better we can relate to our children—and the better our relationships with our grandchildren. Emily talks with author and counselor Beth Booram about the Enneagram, a great tool for self-knowledge, and the challenges of transitioning from parent to grand. We also hear from Caitlin, a young mom who is working a parallel transition with her kids’ grandparents (that is, her own mom and dad). We start the episode with another TGL production meeting, and you’re invited to the conversation on what’s next for Emily and her producer/husband Mike. Beth Booram’s retreat center is Fall Creek Abbey; more info . "The Road Back To You," which both guests mention, is a book and a by Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile. Emily’s Essay: Beginning at The Beginning My husband and I had spent the last 20 years of our lives nurturing, providing meals, crafting birthday experiences, and creating traditions for our brood. Our family was a tight knit group (I liked it that way), and I was the museum curator of their lives…a job I embraced wholeheartedly and which spoke to all my strengths. I had no idea that one weekend at a friend’s lake house would nearly destroy me and play to all my weaknesses. It started out as a goodbye weekend for our son, who was heading to New Zealand for a semester abroad program. Our oldest had just returned from a semester in Oxford, England. Looking back, I know that I felt a great sense of pride for encouraging each of them to flee the nest. I was being so selfless to share them with the world. Mind you, I am looking back on it now with a new sense of what was really happening. I saw myself as someone who selflessly served others with great zeal. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for our children...that is, as long I was in the driver’s seat. By the time the lake house weekend was fully planned, we had added six visitors. I didn’t know what happened. Three of our daughter’s roommates from college, three significant others (whom I pretty much guessed would never be more than a memory in a few years). It went from an intimate family event to an all out house party. The day before we left, I found myself ugly crying in the closet of our bedroom. Of course, I said yes. Of course, when we arrived I prepared meals for everyone including fun omelets you could boil in a Ziploc bag, a lavish burrito bar, homemade enchiladas and lots of goodies. Of course, I smiled and looked like I was having fun. But there was a smorgasbord of hurt building up inside of me. The family send-off to New Zealand had become its own college frat/sorority party, with me as a built-in caterer and my husband as the service boy. To be clear, our children were not ungrateful, but I was still pretty ticked off. You see, I was selfless only if it went my way, and I was given the commensurate amount of gratitude that I deemed matched my efforts; otherwise, I was resentful. I was discovering that I was really not as selfless as I thought. Ouch. This was a stretching moment, and I could really feel the burn. Eight years later and many counseling sessions behind me we were on a family trip that included …. fifteen humans now, including grandchildren. Everyone was with their forever spouse or significant other...a completely different picture that included no one who had joined us at the lake house. By then, I had the benefit of counseling. I had learned that I needed to let go, to stop controlling and curating. To realize that we didn’t have to do everything as a group or everything my way. Also, I could say no if I didn’t want to do something. Boundaries were good! I had learned that family vacations meant we could actually relax. We didn’t need to do everything I thought defined our family--things like singing together, reading plays together, and me making every meal. So I had made progress. But, darn. There was this box. It had all the things in it that I thought would make it a fun week. I had packed candles for better Hygge (a Danish tradition), games, crossword puzzles for a competition…you see where I’m going. It had taken me a lot of time and thought to pack that box. My counselor made a suggestion when I told her about it: “Okay, just don’t bring the box.” What?? I was horrified. I literally shrunk into chair, my forearms tucked into my crossed legs, head down. “I HAVE to bring the box” I said, nearly in tears. She realized the magnitude of what she was asking. After a few minutes of silence, she conceded. “Okay, bring the box, but don’t open it. Tell everyone it’s there and then don’t touch it again.” I managed to do that. And truthfully, it was the best vacation we had ever had. Future ones have become even better. And I didn’t even need to bring the box. Looking back, I realize that while I believed the weekend at the lake house was the beginning of the end, (it felt like it) it clearly was the beginning of the beginning for me. As an empty-nest-er, there is nothing better than you can give, your spouse, your children and your grandchildren than the gift of understanding yourself. I was starting to become aware of the patterns of my responses to our children. I was learning the deep truth of who I am and what that means in terms of how I relate to others…especially the ones I love so dearly. This is the hard work of getting to know yourself that is easy to forego. If you are struggling with the relationships with the people closest to you, end the struggle now and start again at the beginning. --(c) 2019 Emily Morgan /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/14787923

The Evolving Grandparent 06/01/2020

The Evolving Grandparent During this Covid-19 pandemic, grandparenting continues to evolve. Who knows? We might even be called upon to teach our grands when school resumes. Grandparenting is constantly evolving from three generations ago when we, as grandparents, were grandchildren. Where we live, where our grands live, who travels, how often--the expectations are not the same. What is the one factor that had changed grandparenting the most? Explore this with Emily Morgan and her friend Mickey, whose pipe-smoking granny makes for a great story. Also in Episode 1: Relationship Yoga: Send The Letter Passing On Your Passions: Making Space for Gatherings Great Works for Your Grands: "The Duel" by Eugene Field THE STRETCH IT TAKES (Emily's essay): Send The Letter Just recently my grandmother died. We believed she was one year shy of her 103rd birthday when she passed away, but when we went to the Register of Wills, her paperwork confirmed she had been born two years earlier. So, in that reality she was one day shy of her 105th birthday. That’s a long life, and I would like to say it was a long life well-lived. But in all honesty, I was quite removed from her life and couldn’t say either way. Later, going through her papers, I was keenly aware of how little I knew my grandparents. I grew up a 10-hour drive away from that set of grandparents. We visited occasionally, maybe once a year, and I don’t remember them ever traveling to visit us. They would send us a Christmas and birthday card with a $5 check. The connection to my grandparents was fairly transactional, to say the least. That was why I was surprised, that in one of the piles on her kitchen table, I discovered a note from her written to me and tucked into a card I had sent her when I was a young adult. It read something like “Thank you for the fruit and for thinking of me. Love, Nana.” It was very short, matter of fact and not very newsy. But I recognized her handwriting, and the word love was used. Had I received that note in the mail right after it was written, I’m pretty sure I would have been so grateful to get it and see those words. You see, as an adult, I ordered and sent my grandparents Harry and David fruit every year for years. After my grandfather died, I continued to send fruit and other gifts to my grandmother. I did it partly out of love and partly out of respect for their position in my life as my grandparents. But I never heard back except through my mother who talked to her mother and relayed the message that they got the fruit and appreciated it. It felt like an awkward dispassionate exchange. A gift purchased by me, given to my grandparents, and acknowledged through an intermediary. I felt a pang when I saw the thank you note…my first thought was I had judged harshly and that my grandmother had every intention of reaching out and sending her love in that thank you note. Maybe she couldn’t find a stamp, or it took all she could to just write the letter (she was struggling with macular degeneration, I knew). Maybe she thought she had sent the letter…like she thought she was 103, not 105. All those things could be true. But let me encourage you all out there who are now grandparents: send the letter. It’s easy to believe that your small gestures as a grandparent are not important. But they are. You are the elder. You set the bar. You are the model of what it is to love and to pursue. I see so many grandparents who sit back and wait to be loved by their children and grandchildren. Consider being the one who takes the initiative. There is a lot to lose if you simply keep forgetting to do the little things. Please, just send the letter. (c) Emily Morgan 2019 /episode/index/show/thegrandlife/id/14587442

The Grand Life: Wholehearted Grandparenting

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