Second Sandwich Family – the mother’s perspective
It’s amazing what pops into your head just before you drift off to sleep: I suddenly realized this is not my first Sandwich Family!
For the first 10 years of my life, we lived with my grandmother. As a matter of fact, I am named for her, Mary, and for my grandfather, Rob. (This is an old southern custom, the combining of several family names for a child.)
Since my father worked in road construction around the state of Virginia, he was gone during the week and only came home on weekends. My grandmother was widowed so the combining of the two families just naturally happened. Both my mother and grandmother worked but I never had a babysitter. If mother or grandmother was not available, one of my aunts was more than willing to help out. I’m not even sure if anyone even knew the term “babysitter.”
What triggered this entry was thinking about my grandmother and how soft she was to lean against. She was often the one in the middle of the backseat of our car on trips – me on one side and my brother on the other, softly cushioned on her ample frame, and usually sound asleep. (No car seats or seat belts back in the old days.) I can still remember how soft she was and how good she smelled – of talcum powder since there wasn’t any deodorant for women along with cold cream and Jergens lotion. Jergens, by the way, is still one of my favorite scents.
Now, I am the grandmother in my own Sandwich Family here in Ohio, living just across the garage from two of our five grandchildren. The boys often slip over for a visit. At some point, we usually end up on the couch watching TV. Both of my hands are busy with back, foot and leg rubs.
Over the weekend the younger of the two knocked on the door and asked if he could have lunch with us. His mother later told us that he said he was going for lunch and that, if it was okay, he wouldn’t be back for awhile.
It surely is nice to have my second Sandwich Family.
Post written by MaryRob.