A Few Precious Moments of Being Granny Gee …
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter
Both Photos are owned by me … they are two of the few precious photos to validate me being ‘Granny Gee’ at one time.
Sometimes … I think about a little boy I used to be close to. I miss that little boy with my very Heart. He looked just like my son.
We would sit on the couch talking, while kicking our legs … having such fun talking about all kinds of things. I would weave stories, so would he. So much like the son I had.
I thought it was for always. Aren’t grandmothers, grandsons … forever? Grandmothers, granddaughters? I am grandmother only by name. My son would be very sad to know that they aren’t growing up to know me.
You would think I would hate, dislike the mothers … I don’t. I respect that they want their children only for themselves, and their family. It’s sad … mothers can be like that … cutting off a father, cutting off his family as if they never existed.
When one has a son … the family, grandparents learn this a lot of times. It’s sad. The mother has control … I’ve seen grandparents fight like hell to see their grandchildren … causing bad things, bad feelings … pure ugliness to happen.
Well, this grandmother will never do such. I’ve been a pawn and … I grew up in such bitterness, ugliness … I’ll never inflict it on anyone else. I respect people, their wishes though sometimes, I don’t understand them. I know I have my feelings … and hope others respect them.
I’ve missed some of the best years of both my grandson, granddaughter. I can say that one day … karma will probably take its toll on the mothers. I don’t have to hate, harbor ugly … mean feelings toward them because
Life has a way of teaching its own lessons. I know … I have been a student. I have learned the hard way. Maybe somehow … it’s some of my … karma.
Saying all this doesn’t dim my memories of a precious little boy … a precious little girl that my Heart truly loved. I have my treasured memories of being a real grandmother for a little while.
Note by this Author:
Photos, true story owned, written by me … Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.
I’ve still never understood why my son’s family was cut off from my grandchildren’s lives. Whatever … I respect it. I’ll never create a scene … and the mothers know that … they don’t worry at all.
I’ll just carry my precious memories of getting to be a grandmother for just a little while with each one with me to my grave. At least it was better to have known for a moment how it felt to be Granny Gee than … to never have known.
Oh … ‘Granny Gee’ is the name my son gave me for my grandson to call me. Oh, how special it was to hear, see a little golden boy run toward me smiling, calling “Granny Gee! Granny Gee!”
I write as me, and Granny Gee in memory of my son, grandson. My granddaughter never had the chance to learn to call me anything. Her mother remarried to have her call her step-dad ‘daddy’ … as if none of us ever existed. Whatever her reasons for that … I won’t question them.
No hard feelings, anger nor ugliness exist in my Heart. I grew up learning Life has many twists, turns. Some of those twists, turns are ‘off the wall’ … but, it’s because of what people have in their heads … no matter if right or wrong.
I respect, accept … go my way. I can’t allow anymore unhappiness into my life … unnecessarily. I’ve lived too much of it from childhood into adulthood.
I’ve lost most all my family … so much in my life through time. Now … I’m older … I treasure what I do have. Most of all, I treasure Skip and our Pups, Kissy and Camie … and my few precious friends.
I don’t know how in the world I grew up without all the Hellfire in me one would expect. How in the world did I not grow up to be ‘worse than worse … badder than bad?’ How in the world did good overcome all I saw, learned, suffered as a child?
Don’t Feel sorry for me … I don’t. I’m old enough to know sometimes, things are out of our control for whatever reasons. I went through a lot of extra grief when my son died … because I lost my grandson, also. Also, granddaughter. I never understood … I don’t have to. I’ve coped with it … let it go … everything is alright.
The sad thing is … I was always the best friend the mothers of my grandchildren could possibly have. Why? Because they are a part of my son, me.