In today’s world, I constantly bump into grandparents who are now the primary caregivers of their grandchildren. For a variety of reasons, parents have departed the scene, and it now falls to those who often are the only alternative for the child anyway.
Still, it breaks my heart to see a grandchild who has no relationship with a mother or a father. I can’t even imagine how I would feel if I were in their situation because I had two loving parents. Nevertheless, my parents raised 11 children and I knew they were always there… and yet, they weren’t.
When your father holds down two jobs to make ends meet and your mother is busy making babies, feeding, clothing, cooking and raising them, there isn’t a lot of quality time to spread around with each child. While those of us who come from large families were not officially “orphaned” in the truest definition of the word, metaphorically we were.
Parenting in our home, for me at least, fell to my oldest sister Mary. She was my mentor, my role model, my coach and my teacher, not by design but rather by default. It was not a job she sought out, but she accepted her role with grace and dignity as the oldest child in the family.
I won’t lie; when she left to join the convent after her senior year I was devastated. I was still in high school and I wanted and needed her guidance, as did many of my other brothers and sisters. No, we were not “orphaned” in the truest sense, but for the second time in my life, I felt I was.
Since I never had the one-on-one attention from my parents, the maternal aspect of that job fell to Mary. The paternal role was vicariously assumed by my uncles, Arthur and Eli Mack, who were always checking behind me at every turn, particularly in sports. Neither of my parents ever saw me play an athletic event. Neither was present when I won the South Carolina state oratorical speech contest. They simply did not have the time or the wherewithal to do this for 11 children.
Like the grandchild of my friends who are raising her, I accepted that as “the way it was.” But just like that beautiful child, I felt the pain of an absence of parental input and guidance.
Nearly four million children are being raised by grandparents today, according the government statistics. Two million others live with their grandparents, putting three generations all under the same roof.
Parenting is more than just putting food on the table and a roof over a child’s head. It’s about taking an active role in a child’s life. Admittedly, my wife Christine assumed most of that role in my immediate family as I traveled around the world giving speeches when my children were young. Everything fell to her and I openly give her full credit for raising Cory, Jason and Christopher.
Christine is a nurse by profession but was a stay-at-home mom by design. We were blessed that we could do that in our home, but in today’s world, many loving parents both have to work to make ends meet. Even with the best of circumstances, parenting is diluted a bit by that process. Still, families have to cope, no matter the circumstances.
Grandparents often fill that void, pinch hitting after school until mom and dad get home. Many times, those quality moments they get with their grandchildren make all the difference in the world.
Parenting by any definition is a noble cause that is often not fully appreciated, whether the role is being fulfilled by parents, step-parents, grandparents or those who adopt children.
Another set of grandparents were sharing with me recently their dilemma about two grandsons. One is a hard-charging, state ranked wrestler who takes every defeat personally. The other grandson is younger and lacks the killer instinct of his sibling. He’s just as happy competing and accepts that role nicely. These kids are blessed to not only have caring parents but caring grandparents in their lives.
I salute anyone and everyone who accepts the role of raising a child.