We Do Become Our Parents

To an extent there are things that we do that mimic our parents that make us groan, but all in all being like my parents hasn't been a bad thing. Having been blessed with knowing both sets of grandparents growing up, I was always at my mother's parents house. They lived next door to us growing up in a house that they built next to my parents. My parents inherited this house when my grandparents passed and it was rental property for many years. Though knowing how being a landlord is one of the most difficult things on Earth to do, when the opportunity came up for us needing a place to live after selling our house and not finding a new one in time, the house was vacant and we were able to move in temporarily. Here it is over three years later and we still live here. At first it seemed like we should continue to look at houses ASAP but over the years we have seen the housing market tumble and we thank our lucky stars that we have had this opportunity to keep our house profit and get the advantages of living next door to my parents which has been great.

Having grown up next to my grandparents, I was great friends with them. Especially my grandmother. She was a little bit of a thing who battled with rheumatoid arthritis as long as I knew her. She shuffled when she walked, unable to fully pick up her feet. She had the sweetest voice and the softest skin on her hands. Though they were gnarled with the effects of her arthirits I remember holding her hand and feeling how soft the skin in her palm was.

My girls remind me of my grandmother. Aimee has her compassion for other people, always very sweet, except when tired (Aimee, not my grandmother) and very interested in people. Nicole reminds me of her in her looks, expressions and in many of her mannerisms. It's amazing to me how much I see of my grandmother in her. And I know that some of the characteristics are inherited through genes and others are inherited through my mannerisms.

When I see my girls walk across the same yard of grass that I crossed now going in the opposite direction heading to my parents house and get very nostalgic of the traditions that are coming up for them. When I walked across the yard and visited my grandmother we had many games of Sorry! and Chinese Checkers. She had a jewelry box of what I thought were precious jewels from my grandfather's mother that I loved to go through. In hindsight I realize that they were most likely crystal and other costume jewelry but I felt so special being able to try on and model the contents of that box. I remember summer days in their den watching the Red Sox since my grandmother was an avid sports fan and enjoyed all teams of New England. I remember in her older years helping her around the house with tasks that she didn't necessarily want my grandfather handling. We would go through pictures, older clothes she wanted to discard and many times I would do her hair when she just didn't feel like leaving the house to visit the beauty parlor. I especially remember the stories she had. She went to the sister school of my high school and I remember her stories of being a boarder there. She was a nurse at Boston City Hospital and had many stories of different patients that touched her life while she was there. I also remember the stories of my mother and aunt growing up and would listen intently as she shared how they were in their younger days. Some days it is all I can do not to shed a tear when thinking of how much my Nana would have loved to meet my little girls.

Now when my girls take that trek across the grass to their grandparents house, new traditions are blooming with them. Their Nana greets them at the limits of our properties and walks them into her house. She has shown them my old room where they love to look at the remaining stuffed animals and dolls that I left there and that they now play with. They enjoy the treats and attention that their Papa shows them and they give and get big hugs and kisses each time they come. I can see that Aimee has inherited my mothers love for shoes and bags and my constant questions of my father with all the things that he is doing. Nicole has my tenacity and Gary's long attention span to play by herself for stretches of time.

So bring it on, let me be like my mother, like my father and like my grandmother and let the tradition continue on down the line with the girls. To see it is endearing and to experience it beyond words.