April 17th, 2008
My maternal grandparents arrived in Canada from Hungry, but not together. My grandpa arrived in Canada when he was 12 years old, my grandma a short while after. They did not know each other prior to moving here.
The story I’ve been told, of their first meeting, sounds as though it derived from a movie script.
Young man meets a lady friend and falls head over heels.
Young man persues young lady incessantly.
Young lady refuses every offer until she is overwhelmed by the constant bombardment of flowers, visits and promises of a beautiful future.
Young lady agrees to a date.
A date that quickly turns into a 44 year marriage.
Head over heels in love.
Growing up, we were very close to my maternal grandparents - both geographically and physically. I love those people like no other.
There’s just something about Hungarian heritage. It’s so passionate. Passionate for just about anything from love and marriage to their pets and vegetable gardens.
God, I remember how much my grandpa loved his vegetable garden. He would be out there for hours weeding, watering and shooing away the neighbourhood cat, as he cursed it in Hungarian, for using it as a litter box.
His cat, Chester, was his best friend. Every evening Chester and Grandpa would sit in the basement watching television. Chester on his lap purring loudly as my grandpa stuffed chewing tobacco into the centre of a rolled up stick of Juicy Fruit gum. They were a pair.
While they sat in the basement the women - being my mom, aunts and grandma - would sit in the kitchen drinking cup after cup of coffee, talking about everything adult while my brother and I would watch TV in the den, and fight.
I remember my poor old grandma racing around the corner to break up a fight: yelling to get our attention. I don’t think we’ve ever concluded a fight so fast. There’s something about getting in trouble from a grandparent that’s almost sacrilegious.
Sometimes one of us would be sent downstairs to sit with grandpa. Which I always loved.
I would sit beside him, watching intently as he continued rolling the stick of Juicy Fruit delicately around the chewing tobacco. I would ask question after question about what he was doing, why he was doing it, what did it taste like… you know, kid questions.
It was always a treat when grandpa would share his Juicy Fruit, and to this day, I can’t eat it without thinking of him.
I miss those days.
My grandpa passed away 11 days before his 72 birthday in 1998. I had just turned 17. Stomach cancer had finally taken it’s toll - taking my beloved grandpa from us too early.
My family hasn’t been the same since his death.
He was the glue that held us all together. He was the family rock. The stability we all needed.
Now that’s gone.
And so is that part of my family.
Since his death a lot of heartache was doled out between my mother and her sisters. Accusations flew, hatred and evil words were spewed - words that can never be taken back. My beloved grandma stuck in the middle - not strong enough to make them work it out.
Not like Grandpa.
He’s not here to sit his girls down and make them work it out.
He always said: “Family is the most important thing in our lives.”
Too bad that didn’t hold true after he left.
Before he passed, Grandpa asked that Grandma keep her independence. He didn’t want her to move in with any of the girls, but to remain happy and on her own.
After much coaxing, Grandma moved in with her eldest daughter two years after his passing.
That was eight years ago.
I have seen my wonderful, loving and passionate Grandma three times since then.
Three times.
(There are many reasons why it’s only been three times.)
She’s met her great-grandson, Carter, two of those times.
She doesn’t even know we’re expecting another.
I am so torn about the whole situation.
I miss my grandmother immensely.
We, my grandma and I, are caught in the middle.
But there is so much tension and so many hard feelings involved.
Tension and hard feelings that are not mine, nor hers.
How do we move past their squabbling and guilt ridden comments to have a relationship again? (Rhetorically of course.)
Before it’s too late and I lose her too.
14 Comments
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That is so hard. My grandparents became estranged after 50 years together and it divided my aunts and uncles, sadly. But since they have both passed, the family has come back together. I bet everyone wishes now that they had put petty grievances aside to just be together because your grandpa is right, family is the most important thing.
Maybe you building a bridge to your grandma will help others cross over too?
April 17th, 2008 at 11:38 am
Just because its about your mom and her sister doesn’t mean it has to be about your and your grandma. Everyone involved is adults, so if your aunt or your mom have some sort of problem, they should keep it amongst themselves and let you and your grandma be.
What a horrible situation.
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April 17th, 2008 at 11:55 am
I don’t have any grandparents left, but if I did? Sisterfriend, NO ONE, and nothing, would keep me from them. Tell your aunties and momma that while you love them all very much, their problems are theirs, not yours. And then? Give grammy a hug from me, because I don’t have one to hug.
April 17th, 2008 at 12:19 pm
I agree that although it may be hard to say things to the other women in your life, they need to know that your Grandma is a big part of your life too and you need her. You should be able to call her and see her on your own free will and no one should make you feel that you can’t. Hopefully it all works out…. so hard.
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April 17th, 2008 at 1:00 pm
that’s tough. seriously. i kind of feel that way about my grandmother too. only she has Alzheimer’s.
hey…weird question for you..did you grandparents have a white room? i feel like all my friends with Hungarian grandparents all had white rooms.
April 17th, 2008 at 1:31 pm
My grandmother was Hungarian. First generation born out of Hungary.
My mom’s mom was the glue that held us all together. She had every holiday and we all showed up, no matter what. When she passed the family fell apart. Some fighting amongst the kids, mostly hurt feelings. I haven’t seen most of my cousins since her death 15 years ago. I have tried to find my way back, but hurt feelings run deep.
Can your grandma get out of the house? If so, go get her and let her spend the night with you, bonus, if mom can visit too. If not, just call and tell them you want to see your grandma, choose a time and have them clear out if thats the way it has to be.
No one should have to lose a grandparent twice. We got “custudy” of my granddaddy, we share, they just won’t come see him, it hurts him to think they don’t care. Don’t let them or anybody stop you from seeing her. Good luck.
justmylife’s last blog post..My husband is special.
April 17th, 2008 at 3:01 pm
I think there are very few problems in life that can’t be solved with this philosophy:
“fuck ‘em”
I don’t know if that helps.
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April 17th, 2008 at 3:02 pm
I loved reading about your grandparents. I hope you’ll see your Grandma soon, so sorry for all the family tension keeping you two apart.
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April 17th, 2008 at 4:01 pm
Hey fellow Hungarian, my dad and family are also hungarian!
Please call your grandma, go see her, the quarrel isn’t between the 2 of you, don’t let the bitterness ruin your special relationship, I bet it would mean the world to her and you.
April 17th, 2008 at 10:31 pm
Try thinking of it from another point of view:
… Grandma, who has been no doubt, pining (PINING!) for you and your son.
… and your child(ren) who need– and deserve– to have memories of her.
My grandparents are all gone, now. And not a day goes by that I don’t think of them and miss them.
Sam, I’d give anything for my children to have more time with my grandmothers… and especially my grandfather, who died not knowing that I was expecting his first great-grandchild (I was foolishly doing the wait-three-months thing… It’s something I’ll never forgive myself for).
I’m sure it’s complicated for you… and it will “stir the pot”. But oh, what you and your children have to lose if you DON’T.
Let us know what happens… and, as someone else said, please give her a hug, for those of us who don’t have our own Grandmas here anymore.
Love to you– xoxo CGF
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April 18th, 2008 at 12:09 am
My grandma died when I was 8. I watched our family implode. It sucked. And, to this day, my mom and her oldest brother talk, but that’s it.
That’s your grandma, you know, you shouldn’t let anyone stop you or even make you hesitate for a moment to continue that relationship! I’d give anything to talk to my grandma.
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April 18th, 2008 at 12:21 am
I’m so sorry hon. My husband’s family went through something similiar. It’s awful.
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April 18th, 2008 at 8:29 am
Touching post. I’m with everyone here, try to do something about it…..
Jenn
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April 18th, 2008 at 11:48 pm
I’d personally try a phone call or sending a letter if a visit isn’t possible. My families kind of fell apart after my grandfathers passed, too. Not to the extent that yours did - there were no accusations or harsh words - but no one gets together as a big family during the holidays anymore. The differences between then and now makes my childhood seem even farther off than it actually is. I need to call my Mawmaw - my only living grandparent - as well.
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April 22nd, 2008 at 11:48 pm