If there was one thing that fascinated Cyril Rum, Angel on sabbatical, it was the human concept of grandparents.
He was intrigued that humans didn’t give up on each generation but rather attached themselves to the generations their respective children created.
In this role, they assumed a sense of wisdom, a sort of been there done that attitude which served as a levelling aspect to relationships between the various generations.
His aged neighbour, Mildred Thrup was not a grandparent and for reasons explained to Cyril: “The right man never came along.”
Cyril decided she wasn’t all that happy about it and he wondered why when from his observations child raising was no easy task. Why he asked himself would you want to put yourself through anything like that again?
Two doors down lived George and Harriet Smith who had a constant stream of relatives and grandchildren coming and going at all hours of the day.
One day Cyril engaged George in conversation about his grandparenting. George explained that of his six children five had married and produced a number of children and in this day and age it was required that the grandparents be available for child caring while their parents worked.
In their conversation, George did admit it all did get to be a too much at times and many was the night they went to bed early exhausted from caring for the babies that had arrived at dawn and were collected at sunset.
“After all,” explained George he and Harriet were not getting any younger. “We’ve had our lives put on hold to care for these grandkids and give our children an opportunity to make something of their lives and provide for the future.”
In Cyril’s head, there was the question as to why have children if the care of them was to be left to others?
“It’s the way of the world now,” said Mildred over a cup of tea that afternoon. “Everything is so expensive, and both parents have to work to keep the roof over their heads.”
“Do you feel you have missed out on all that Mildred?” asked Cyril.
“Oh yes I have always felt very maternal, but I wasn’t lucky with love. Most men I thought attractive and worth the effort spurned me, ran away you might say,” she replied her mind back thirty years remembering the boy with the blood nut head. He was the most hopeful beau she had. A school teacher at the local school whom she met through a Church social one August night. Just as it all got interesting, he announced he was being transferred across the state. She never heard of him again despite his promises to write.
So, devastated was she that she never pursued another boy.
Cyril had watched Mildred interact with the neighbourhood children and thought she would make a good grandmother as she was always kind and considerate of them.
To Cyril, it was all part of his education of the human race who never ceased to surprise him.
Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/12/07/tale-weaver-149-7th-december-grandparents/
Morpethroad 