Grandma Mary is a gem.
Her real name is Mary Jane Pressley Winter, but Grandma suits her well. Although my mother-in-law looks younger than she is, Mary's what a grandma should be. She's kind and gentle and radiates comforting smiles. Grandma Mary proudly boasts seven grandchildren, but she'd never claim a favorite.
Eight years ago when when my son, Eric, was diagnosed with cerebral palsy, Grandma Mary was there for us.
Little has been written about the grief that families of children with special needs endure. Even less is said of the anguish experienced by grandparents eagerly anticipating the renewed joys of parenting, minus its demands.
For special grandparents, joyful family gatherings filled with proud coos over "perfect" newborns are often replaced by neonatal intensive care visits. Instead of cigars, stuffed animals and back slapping, they face the hum of medical intervention, fragile infants and broken dreams.
The experience can prove overwhelming for the grandfather who'd hoped to teach his grandson how to throw a football or share hotdogs at the ball park. Or for the grandmother with visions of frilly dresses, ballet recitals and passing down a cookie recipe in the family for generations.
Grandma's Love
For many family members, the birth of a special child can represent the death of a dream. But not for Grandma Mary.
Since the day of Eric's birth, she's enthusiastically claimed her grandson and created a place in her heart for a love almost too big to hold. She has embraced powerful life lessons from a child teaching volumes about unconditional love. Her grandson makes us all listen when communication goes beyond words.
It was Grandma Mary who lovingly rocked Eric, while life-sustaining tubes connected to his body. She sang silly songs that have become theirs. Her sweet face and gentle voice have offered healing that rivals the best medical treatment, aiding in Eric's recovery and in ours.
Grandma Mary walked the floor for hours, singing sweetly, when it was the only way to soothe a distraught infant and his parents were exhausted.
When people seemed insensitive to the magnitude of our special parenting challenge, there was Grandma Mary, adding a wheelchair ramp to her front porch to ensure Eric's visits. She has forced herself beyond her comfort zone at a time in her life when she could be coasting and she always has enough love left to savor magical moments with each grandchild.
To Grandma Mary, each and every new life is unique, much like the designs on her coveted handmade quilts.
Today, Grandma Mary and Eric play the guitar, read chapter books and cook in the kitchen. She volunteers weekly at Eric's school. Mary and I understand the tears of love that fill each of our eyes when we celebrate Eric's hard-won achievements and we both know that a priceless corner of her heart is forever owned by one special grandson in a wheelchair.
Their powerful human bond blesses us all.
Judy Winter is a mother and award-winning journalist. "Grandma Mary" first appeared in the Lansing State Journal on March 22, 1998. It is reprinted by permission.