In the lives of little girls, there are many people who leave their mark — but there is always that one person who shapes us most deeply: grandpa.

There’s probably a psychological explanation for it too. It’s been known for a long time that girls tend to be more attached to their fathers, boys to their mothers. However much we try to disprove it, when we’re really honest with ourselves, we realise it’s more or less simply true. This doesn’t mean girls don’t love their mothers and grandmothers, or boys their fathers and grandfathers. It just means that those particular bonds are special in their own way.

Think of the most famous story — my favourite — about Heidi and her grandfather, and it becomes clearer what I mean when I talk about the special relationship between a grandfather and his granddaughter.

Parents are a special category.

But grandparents are an even more special one — you have to admit that.

Our child is growing up far from her grandparents. Thank God, and thanks to the hardworking people behind today’s technology, she can see them all — virtually, at least — almost every day. But it’s not the same. In person is in person. Because no hug, no kiss, and no emotion can be transmitted through a screen, no matter how good the connection is.

On one hand, Marko and I are very proud of everything we manage on our own — on the other, we cherish every visit from grandma and grandpa.

Setting aside all the “freedom” Marko and I get when they visit (which we mostly use to stay longer at the library — student life, you know). What matters more is Sofia’s relationship with her grandparents. With them, she’s an entirely different child. And that’s perfectly normal.

I find it fascinating to watch her boundless love for them from the sidelines — the attachment, the closeness. Not to mention their own devotion and love for her.

Just as I dislike it when someone asks a child “who do you love more, mum or dad?”, I also think it’s not just pointless but actually unfair to the child to ask the same kind of question when it comes to grandma and grandpa.

But. Of course there’s a but.

From my own personal experience — growing up with two grandmothers and one grandfather — I loved and still love both my grandmothers. But grandpa was always grandpa. And I can see the same is true for Sofia. Grandma can bend over backwards for her, but she’ll always say “come on, grandpa” first — and only then invite grandma along too.

There’s something strange about the bond between a grandfather and a granddaughter. Different from the one between a father and a daughter — and yet somehow the same.

A grandfather is someone who is there to indulge (which doesn’t necessarily mean to spoil), to cuddle and to protect, to love and to care — but with a different kind of weight than mum and dad carry.

 

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 My Grandpa — The Man Who Listened and Absorbed

As I said — I had one grandfather. The other, sadly, I never got to meet, because he left this world too soon. And I grieve that deeply, because I can’t imagine how many more beautiful childhood memories I would have had if I’d had not one but two grandfathers.

My memories of my grandfather are nothing but good ones. He was a man who didn’t say much — but when he spoke, it meant something. He wasn’t strict, wasn’t short-tempered, but patient and devoted. He would never have told me he couldn’t do something with me — whether that was reading to me endlessly while I still couldn’t read myself, or spending hours playing Memory with me, or card games, or what we both loved most: doing puzzles. Like any child, I talked non-stop the whole time; he didn’t say much. He listened and absorbed everything. I understand that only now, watching my father with Sofia.

It’s not all in the words — far more lives in the feelings.

Even though my grandfather has been gone for six years now, not a day passes that I don’t think of him. And every time I dream of him, I have the feeling that I miss him more and more. Because I can’t imagine how happy he would have been about Marko — and even more so about Sofia…

Sofia and Her Grandpa — Memories Being Made

And yes — a grandfather shapes us for life. I owe many of my values and convictions to him. My grandmother always used to say: “You and your grandpa! Who could manage the two of you, you’re so alike.”

And it’s not true that he’s gone — as long as we’re here to remember him, and as long as those genes and feelings are alive — which I can clearly see in the bond between Sofia and my father — he is with us.

And when I step off the train of memories and watch Sofia playing with her grandpa — who, despite his injured hip and the walking stick he’s currently leaning on, doesn’t hesitate for a moment when Sofia shouts “come on, grandpa!” to the sound of her favourite song — and gets up and dances with her, I’m reminded again of just how great and important a grandfather is in the life of his granddaughter. With every moment they share, they are building their own memories. And I understand, more than well, how important and beautiful that is.

Because there is only one grandpa.

S-Mama