Rachel Brougham: Let’s hear it for all the ‘neighborhood grandmas and grandpas’
We have a standing date each day at 4:30 p.m. to walk our dogs and chat about our day. We meet on the corner of our shared block and as we walk our neighborhood streets, we chat about our day. I ask her about her knitting group or how her day went volunteering at the museum. She asks me about work, about my son’s day at school and what I’m making for dinner that night.
I met Sandra in the fall 2019 while I was walking my then new dog in front of her house while she was unloading groceries from her car. “What a pretty dog,” she said. She pointed to her dog, a golden retriever mix named Duggy, who was watching our interaction from her living room window and told me he was probably jealous of our interaction. She asked if I lived nearby, and I told her I live on the street right behind her, a few houses down. We share an alley.
All this time later, Sandra is still listed in my phone as “Sandra (Duggy),” since it’s always easier for me to remember the neighborhood dogs’ names than it is for me to remember their owners.
Since we met, our dogs have had countless playdates and we’ve gone on countless walks. We’ve exchanged baked goods, had backyard movie nights together and sometimes we toss our afternoon activities to the side and go wonder around various retail stores together. My dog goes to her house when we’re out of town and Duggy comes here for sleepovers.
Sandra and her husband have three grown children who all live in different parts of the country, but no grandchildren yet. However, that hasn’t stopped her from becoming what my son calls his Neighborhood Grandma.
She knits him winter hats and brings him home gifts from vacations. When my husband and I are out late and my son is home alone, she has him over for root beer floats. She sends him funny texts when she sees something she knows he’ll think is funny. She tells him how proud she is of him and his accomplishments. She’s already asked me what I think about a graduation gift she has planned for him when he finishes high school. My son is only a freshman.
A few months ago, Sandra wrote a heartfelt letter to other neighbor friends of ours who have an almost 2-year-old son. In the letter, she asked if they would consider having her as their son’s Neighborhood Grandma as well. She wrote that my son would be happy to give her a recommendation.
It’s adorable and cute and lovely, just like her.
When I was growing up, I had my own Neighborhood Grandma and Grandpa. Fred and Dorothea lived across the street and had their own grown daughters, but that didn’t stop them from treating many of us neighborhood kids as their own. They’d cheer me on at my high school soccer games, they came to my wedding and I’d always make a point to visit them when I was back in town.
Fred and Dorothea were there for me when my own grandparents could not be. And that’s exactly what Sandra is for two very lucky boys in our neighborhood.
For years I’ve preached to my son that your family is who you make it to be. Sure, there are uncles and aunts and those family members who we are related to biologically. But sometimes
those family members just aren’t there for us for whatever reason — distance, time, money and complicated relationships. So that’s where friends and neighbors come in.
And those special Neighborhood Grandma and Grandpas are just as good as the real thing. And for many of us, they are just what we need.
— Rachel Brougham is the former assistant editor of the Petoskey News-Review. You can email her at racheldbrougham@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on The Holland Sentinel: Rachel Brougham: Let’s hear it for all the ‘neighborhood grandmas and grandpas’
