On June 27, grandson 1 came to stay with me. It was a daunting challenge to try to sort out what an 18-year-old was like. Let me tell you that it is not like your own children when they grew up. Now a days they go around with things in their ears or holding a computer or playing games with an Xbox. I wonder if they know what the outside really looks like. I wonder if they care about having an original thought or if it is all things programmed in from the clouds into their ears.
I can see the attack forces; the guns shooting each other; the football players playing the same game over and over. Do they ever win? People get killed but live to play another day. Does this contribute to the violence we see? Because in the games the next day they are alive again.
I rather live alone and did not think that this grandson would still be with me. I should, ought, need to have kept a diary of all the frustrating days when I thought there was nothing but a shell of a person; my rants to him; only twice did he even respond; but I guess I felt really badly when he quietly said at the end of one of my rants:”I do not know what to do.” I asked what he did at home and he replied “Nothing” and I found that even sadder.
I tried to teach him things that one should know in life; how to tip; being on time for work; how to wash and dry his clothes; how to keep his room clean and picked up….not that he did not have brilliant parents but as he said: “I was an only child.” What does this mean? Is this an excuse for not being made to do anything?
He now does his own cooking. He keeps the games and TV down to where I cannot hear them and can sleep at night; he washes his own clothes and puts them away and he even makes his bed from time to time. He learned that if he did not leave for work on time (in my opinion) that he would walk the next day whether it was raining or not. He learned as I did.
It was a summer and fall I don’t remember living; it was a stressful time; my doctor states I will not get better until he leaves.
He joined the Army against his parents wishes. He came here for that. He is going home on December 12 until December 27 and then ships out to South Carolina on January 7. I think my life may go back to normal for at least the 9 weeks he is gone but I am told he keeps coming back here and I keep saying but he needs to go home. I raised my two and I did not sign up for this duty.
My son said that he had not grown up around either grandmother. They chose to live away. I called but he did not like to talk to someone he did not know. My son states maybe I could teach him about grandmothers and I said it was too late.. I was not a grandmother except by default and that the best we might could manage would be to learn too be friends.
I suppose I am not a very good grandmother. Since June 27, he has never called me anything. Not “hey you”; not my name; not grandmother or any derivative thereof. I have not felt like writing about this but today, I thought, I think I shall begin this story as well. I cannot go back and recapture the days we lived in the same house but never spoke; those days are gone. I pointed out to him that we had a few weeks left to try to get to know each other.
Today the computer was back on the table; the ear things on with a furry cap on top of the ear things. Reminded me of that show made in Alaska that was so funny. I almost laughed at him but decided it would be best not to. It was a funny sight.
Perhaps the Army will know what to do with him. I certainly hope so.
I hope you will not judge me too harshly. Have you ever had a grandson you never knew move in with you at age 18? Any advice? I should, ought, need, to have asked earlier.