The Pull of the Smitten Grandmother

A reader recently suggested that I refrain from commenting on issues that have political implications, with the counsel that I stick with the “grandmotherly” topics, which I interpreted as those I’m qualified to write about, such as potty training and apple pie. Apparently, a sixty-two-year old grandmother shouldn’t have an opinion on policies that will increase the national debt (placing that burden on our grandchildren), deny medical coverage to nine million children (CHIP funding still hasn’t been authorized), or expose serial abusers (#metoo). How dare a silver-haired grandmother plead for non-violence in our world?

In that message, I was hearing echoes from WWE’s Stone Cold Steve Austin. “Know your role and shut your mouth.” I’ve heard that message before. The feelings remain long after the words are probably forgotten by the speaker. “Keep your wife under control.” “Are you sure you want to sign up for AP Calculus? You’re a girl.” “Did you know you’re called ‘that radical woman.’” “You sure are opinionated.”

Women have heard it. So have those in a “less than” position because of skin color, poverty, ethnicity, age, or an unequal balance of power. MILCK sings about the expected response in “Quiet.” “Put on your face, know your place, shut up and smile.”

I am certainly not ashamed of being a smitten grandmother, but I am not just a grandmother, just as I’m not defined only by my relationships. I’m also an author, speaker, musician, writer’s midwife and advocate. As a columnist, I consider myself successful when I’ve “stirred the pot,” and I hope my readers disagree with me from time to time. After all, it’s called an editorial page for a reason, so a variety of opinions can be expressed. Many of my ideas, formed over a lifetime of work among the marginalized and the powerless of our world, may not sit well with every reader. But I’ve come to MILCK’s conclusion: “I can’t keep quiet for anyone anymore.”

During World War II, radio newscaster Paul Harvey presented stories that contained little known or forgotten facts on a variety of topics, with the tag line, “And now you know the rest of the story.” There is a “rest of the story” to my grandmother identity that has surfaced in recent months. As you may know, Larry and I were assigned to Ashland in 2006, tasked with the responsibility to develop the new Salvation Army Ray and Joan Corps Community Center. I quickly became a smitten immigrant, appreciating the small-town atmosphere after many years of work in larger cities. In fact, my column-writing days at the T-G began with the desire to chronicle the benefits I was discovering, looking at the oft-repeated phrase, “Only in Ashland,” as a positive rather than a negative.

After many years of a nomadic life, going where The Salvation Army assigned us to go, we put down deep roots here, assuming this would be our home long into our golden years. I’ve driven to Canton once a week for seven years to care for the lovely Madelyn Simone and now the delightful Elizabeth Holiday, and that was doable. But when our youngest son Dan and his wife Becky made an offer on a house in Canton in August, I began to ponder: what about the future?  

The decision didn’t come easily, but it made sense long-term. Ultimately, the smitten grandmother (and more reluctantly, the smitten grandfather) trumped the smitten immigrant, and our offer for a house in Canton was accepted this week.

We’ll miss this beautiful home, with its grand staircase, the colorful children’s playroom, and my light-drenched writing nook, and have no clue how we’ll downsize to a house half its size. But it’s time for one floor living, reduced yardwork, and children and grandchildren at our table for mashed potatoes and gravy.

As for my presence on these pages, I’ll continue here until we move (in January), and would be honored to keep stirring the pot longer if the editor wants me to.

So now you know the rest of the story. Stay tuned for more on our next chapter, thoughts on what we’ll miss about Ashland, and yes, a political hot potato or two still to come.