On loving grandparents

Because of their support, I have a roadmap for how to be a loving grandparent myself

Hi friends,

This week, I reflect on my grandparents. Many grandchildren and their grandparents enjoy unconditional love and joy in one another's existence. There’s a special bond there. Grandparents help children connect to the past. They pass on important family stories. Children who are fortunate enough to have involved grandparents also learn that they can love and depend on adults other than their parents. For grandparents, I believe time with grandchildren enlivens them, providing healthy exposure to young energy and perspective.

Two of my four biological grandparents died before I was born. I wish I had had the chance to meet June and Al Malatesta, my mom's parents, who both died of cancer. My paternal grandparents lived well into their 80s, allowing me to spend more than two decades with each. Both died in the last two years. For years, I enjoyed regular phone calls with both my grandmother, Janet, and grandfather, Ray. We also exchanged handwritten notes in the mail.

I’m thinking about both of them. We're often reminded of loved ones in daily life, whether it's the drink they loved, the place they enjoyed visiting, or the song they liked to play. Sometimes, I think of my grandmother when I read (she enjoyed reading), eat sweets, or pass through the Bronx, where she lived. Other times, I think of my grandfather, who adored the Yankees, strawberry shortcake, and watching me play sports. In their final years alive, I tried my best to visit them as often as I could in the nursing home. I knew their time on Earth was limited, and I didn't want to regret not visiting, calling, or writing to them enough.

To honor them and reflect on their lives, I've included in this week's newsletter my reflections on both of them. I wrote the first, for my grandmom, in April 2020, shortly after she died. I wrote the other about five weeks ago, in March, the week my grandfather died, and shared it at his service.

Because of their support, I have a roadmap for how to be a loving grandparent myself.

Love,

Matthew

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Grandmom Janet, April 2020

My beautiful grandmom, Janet, passed away this week. She will be missed deeply by the many people who knew and loved her. She crafted handwritten notes, wrote personal cards on your birthday and called some days just to check in. She loved living in the Bronx, where I loved visiting her and seeing her face when I brought flowers. She loved flowers. She loved listening to Johnny Mathis. She loved reading books and newspapers. She helped me understand the value in how a good book can transport your mind to magical places. Through her kindness, smiles and hugs, she showed me how big a heart she had.

"Over the past two years, I read through her journals and here is what I saw most often," my dad, Dennis, wrote two years ago on Facebook. "Prayers for friends who had gotten sick or died. Prayers for friends of friends who had gotten sick and died. Prayers for all those in the world who may have been suffering from the same or similar ailments, or anything for that matter. And prayers of thanks for the health and well-being of all, especially her friends and family. It pained her when others suffered. Her gratefulness was palpable. She was an exemplary role model. All else pales in comparison to the lessons of unconditional love, kindness and thoughtfulness she has passed down, and around."

A year or two ago, I placed a Harriet Tubman postcard above her bed because grandmom channeled Tubman in her own ways. Like Tubman, grandmom was a strong woman, independent, too. She considered others through prayers, letters and out-of-the-blue phone calls. She was never one to complain. She appreciated the opportunity, the beauty, in each day we are fortunate enough to wake up. If she talked about others, it was to see the good that lies in their heart.

Like Tubman, grandmom now rests peacefully, a beautiful life lived.

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Grandpa Ray, March 2022

Good morning, everybody, and thank you for being here. The support for Ray, my grandpa, is greatly appreciated, emblematic of all the people who loved him. Family, friends, let us rejoice in knowing he lived a long, happy, loving life of 89 years. The fact that there were workers from the nursing home last night – who paid their respects because of how close they had grown to him — speaks volumes about him and Grandmom Camille.

Growing up, one of my fondest memories involves sitting by the dining room window on Friday afternoons after school, waiting for Grandpa and grandmom Camille’s car to come within view, around the corner. Their arrival meant a fun weekend of good meals, conversation, baseball, museums, reading and walks in the fresh air. Maybe a face paint or an ice cream cone, too. Grandpa loved taking me for ice cream.

We can all learn from my Grandpa Ray, who served for our country as a proud Marine. Thank you, Grandpa, for your service. He took really good care of himself, with an impeccable skin care/lotion routine, gel in his thick head of hair, and frequent exercise walks on the golf course, walks outside, physical therapy. He also ate well, mostly the product of Grandmom Camille’s delicious homemade Italian meals. Trust me – she’s that good.

He’d say he didn’t know what he’d do without grandmom Camille, whom he adored dearly. He’d say how grateful he was to have Camille by his side through life, navigating everyday life and all their fun trips around the country, and world.

Grandmom deserves the utmost love and respect for what she has done for Grandpa over the years, especially in the last several months. When I’d visit the nursing home – there was Grandmom, reading by his side, every single day, from 11-7. Every single day to support her life partner and biggest fan. If you know Camille, this is not surprising. Still, it is an incredible example of her love for Grandpa, and their deep bond.

When I’d walk into Grandpa’s room, he wore a big smile when he saw me. Though I’m not sure if that was because of me or the strawberry shortcake in my hand. Gosh, he loved strawberry shortcake.

Grandpa was an avid reader, a habit that helped me also fall in love with the magic of reading. When I was little, he and Grandmom helped my mom through some challenging times, personally and professionally. His support was unwavering.

He loved the Yankees, and he loved taking me to Yankee games — thank you, Ralph — and taking me to lunch or ice cream on a warm summer afternoon. It was hard to beat a great day at the ballpark with Grandpa.

He also wrote the nicest handwritten cards on holidays and birthdays. He loved attending my baseball and basketball games — he was so proud of me when I got a few hits or made a few baskets, but looking back, he was simply proud of the person I was becoming. He'd sometimes say along the lines of, ‘I’m proud of you, kid’ and that meant the world.

This week, I reflect on this Maya Angelou passage on grief –

And when great souls die, after a period of peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly, spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses restored, never to be the same, whisper to us: They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.

Grandpa made our life richer. We are grateful to have met on this miraculous, beautiful planet and to have intersected in lovely ways. We’re going to miss Ray dearly — no more meals together, no more cards from him, no more phone calls, no more laughs over ice cream.

But his soul will stay with us. Let us see the blessing in knowing and loving him. In our grief, let’s smile knowing he lived a joyous life.

Thank you all again for being here. Much love