Right after my husband died, my oldest grandchildren made a simple and heartfelt request. “Grandma, don’t ever get married again. We don’t want another grandpa.” What they really meant was, they believed no one could fill his grandpa shoes. They were probably right in that regard, but their plea caught me off guard since I had not really given the subject very much thought, given their timing.
But, as time passed, I did actually begin to give the possibility of another man in my life some thought. By this time, no one in the family seemed to have any real objections. But the granddaughters were tough. Everyone they heard about was put through a rigorous examination. Who was he? They wanted to know. What did he do, was he retired, how old was he, did he have kids and grandkids, did he have money? The questions went on and on. (Most guys never made it this far.) Then came the pronouncement of sentence. Thumbs down. Usually, it was simply that they didn’t like his looks. Whatever that was supposed to mean… I felt like I was still a teenager trying to get a boy past my father’s scrutiny. (It was not until college that I finally learned how to do that!) My father knew all the same young men I did. And he usually knew more about them than I did. None of them made the cut either.
I soon decided that the best thing to do was avoid talking to them about it all together. I stopped talking about even the possibility of dating. The girls must have assumed that I had simply given up on the idea and they never brought it up anymore.
The truth is that I had actually become pretty disillusioned with the whole dating thing. There are no perfect people, I know, but as we age, we accumulate and drag along with us a lot of unnecessary baggage. And the one man that I possibly could have built a life with had more baggage than either of us cared to unpack. He probably thought the same about me.
My girls have become accustomed to a single grandmother that is all theirs. And I have grown into a woman who is content with herself and with her independent life. People have quit trying to set me up with their friends. And that’s okay. I can find my own male companionship, thank you!
So, one day when I announced that I was on my way to the supermarket to pick up dates, it created quite an uproar with the granddaughters!
“Grandma!” They all three scolded, with very disapproving looks.
“What?” I asked innocently.
“You can’t do that!”
“Why not?” I really didn’t understand their objection.
They launched, all at the same time, into a boisterous and loud explanation as to why I shouldn’t go to the store to pick up dates. It was unseemly, they could help me set up a profile on a dating site, if that’s what I wanted, there were other ways to meet men, the supermarket thing was so yesterday… It went on. And on.
“Girls, girls, girls!” I finally interrupted, laughing. I now understood their concern. “I’m just going to get dates.”
That began the whole thing all over.
“Stop!” I held up my hand. When they had quieted down, I explained in very clear terms. “I’m not going to the market to pick up men.”
A look of relief swept over their faces.
“I’m going to pick up dates. The fruit. To eat.”
Their faces, -in fact, their entire posture,- took on a look of chagrin.
“Oh,” one muttered, almost under her breath.
“Well, okay then,” one mumbled.
“Never mind….” They turned as a group to leave the room, but one had to have the last word. She turned to look over her shoulder, “As long as you know, you aren’t allowed to pick up men at the supermarket!”
Apparently, I’m held to a higher standard! I gave them the grandmotherly mind-your-own-business look and they skittered away to the safety of another room.
I stood alone in the kitchen and laughed for a bit before composing myself and heading off to watch TV with my little caretakers.
Some time ago, at a time and place unknown to me, these three girls appear to have made a pact to take care of me. They have begun already. I seem to be their personal pet project. I can’t complain about that. They’re doing a pretty good job so far of keeping me out of trouble! I just have to be careful about how I word my sentences.
Have you had a funny misunderstanding that you would like to share?
