Four years ago I became a grandmother. This was remarkable on many counts, because I’d never had children. I had a full and demanding career as a show business journalist and didn't marry until I was in my fifties.
There were a series of Mr Wrongs who I had thought were Mr Right until Mr White came along in 2011 and he was Mr Right. By then the idea of children of my own was long gone. I had been fortunate to always have children in my life, including several who call me Auntie Fran,
My husband Ray has a son from his first marriage, Lee, who on October 23 2018 became a father himself when his wife, Laura gave birth to Nina. I held this tiny wrinkled red little thing with a shock of dark hair; Nina, named after Ray’s mother. I remember feeling an instant bond and love. She was the granddaughter of the man I love.
Nina had three grandmothers when she was born, Lee’s mum Annette was ‘Grandma’, Laura’s mum Mary who was Nai Nai in honour of her Welsh roots and I was GranFran. Nina had other ideas about that name though. When she started to talk, she just started calling me BaBa and that’s what I am; a bubbe called BaBa. She is my 'Ninakins’
In the first few months I held back. Nina had two ‘blood’ grandmothers in Lee and Laura’s mums, and I was just woman who had married Lee’s dad. A step-grandmother. I wasn’t sure really what my role should be. I created what I now realise were self-imposed boundaries to always defer to others. At times I felt awkward, not really sure how much input I should have. Especially as not having had children myself, I felt as though my opinion wouldn’t be valid because I didn’t have ‘life experience’.
But my role developed as the main grandmother figure. Annette sadly passed away two years ago. Mary sees Nina as often as possible, but she lives in Manchester, 44 miles away from us in Leeds.
Ray was besotted but inevitably, when we babysat, the practical hands-on nappy and bottle stuff was my area. I loved it though. Nina would lay looking up at me, with such trust in her big, beautiful eyes, I would melt.
When Laura went back to work, we began looking after Nina two days a week We became a part of the around 5 million grandparents in the UK who according to a recent UGov poll provide regular childcare.
It’s a great privilege to spend a lot of time with a child and see first-hand how they change and develop and have a hand in that development. There are so many lovely magical moments, like the first time she tried my chicken soup and kneidlach: "More" she said smiling.
Then came lockdown and we didn’t see her until June 2, Ray’s birthday, when we decided it was ‘safe’ enough for Lee make a BBQ in their garden. Nina, not yet properly speaking, just came up to both of us and hugged us around the legs for a long time.
As soon as we could we were back to normal having her two days a week. We always try to make the days fun. We’ve become members of the local stately home, Harewood, where Nina loves the playground, feeding the goats and seeing the penguins and her favourite white owl. She loves helping in the kitchen and is a dab hand at stirring a cake mix. We sing silly songs together that I make up like one about her being a"‘chuckly bubbly sponge cake". I used to sing it to her softly when she was a baby, and she still likes me to sing it. Ours is Nina’s second home and she has regular sleepovers.
If you look closely at her little finger, you’ll see me wrapped around it. I call her Mademoiselle Schmoozetta when she comes up to me, smiling and snuggling up saying "BaBa I’m hungry". We both know she means she wants something from ‘the drawer’ where all her treats are kept.
She’s a beautiful, thoughtful, and soulful child. When I recently had a bout of sciatica, she came and stroked my leg. Then she waved an imaginary magic wand saying, "I’m using my powers to make BaBa’s leg better".
The biggest joy has been teaching her about all things Jewish. From the very first she was by my side as I lit the shabbat candles. I taught her the bracha as soon as she started talking. Now she’s a whizz at it, yelling "Good Shabbas!" and then coming in for what we call a "group hug".
Recently she drew a picture of her, Ray and I "It’s called ‘lighting the shabbas candles" she said.
I take her to children’s services at shul at Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. She holds my hand and says "Look BaBa, we’re both wearing a pretty dress! We’re the Yomtov girls".
Last year we went on a family holiday to Florida. An event that was so successful, we’re all going away together again this year. Nina relished having her mummy and daddy and Grandpa and BaBa all together and I relished being part of a family. As a single woman and only child, I used long for a nuclear family of my own. My mum and I were a symbiotic twosome but it wasn’t the same. Now, when I look around the table during Friday night dinner I realise I have now got my own little family and the joy that brings.
Come September Nina will be starting school properly so we’re conscious that these next few months are extra precious and are planning lots of fun things to do. Life will change again and our relationship will inevitably alter as she gets older. I’m excited to see the girl, teenager and woman she will become.
What makes being a grandparent so special? From the general silliness to the extra source of love, this bond is special and unbreakable. It’s a relationship based on love, appreciation, fun and pure joy and what I’ve learned is you don’t have to have that "blood" connection. Nina doesn’t know we don’t have a ‘blood tie’. She just knows I love her, look after her, make her laugh. In any given week my most cherished moments are when she and I are curled up together on the sofa, her head on my chest, watching either Mr Bean or Paddington, her favourites. Then she’ll turn to me suddenly and say ‘BaBa, I love you’.
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