Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Thoughts on Grandmothers

Today I thought of buried photos of Audrey and June, Husband’s grandmothers. They both loved him deeply, and he still thinks of them with respect and love, as well. Audrey died several years before I met Husband; I knew June several years before her death.
Audrey adored him because he strongly resembled one of her sons who died as a toddler. She was the victim of Schizophrenia Disorder, so when she was in any one of her many spacey moments, she called him Douglas.
For your edification, schizophrenia is the name for a series of behaviors that include hallucinations, delusions, and unordered thinking processes. In Audrey’s case, it seemed to be a little of all three. Schizophrenia is not split personality or multiple personalities. As with many females, the onset of Audrey’s disorder was evident in her late 20’s.
When I married into the family, my father-in-law tried to explain that his mother was “just a tad different.” Yea, just a tad.
Audrey behaved strangely on many occasions. She once strapped a cheese sandwich to the top of her head. “The devil can go into it and I can throw him away,” she explained. She would go to the grocery, load her cart with hundreds of dollars of food, and take it to checkout. When told the total was $200 or $300, she would say, “Thank you”, then turn and walk out of the store leaving the unpaid sacks of groceries behind.  The owners finally phone my father-in-law and complained about the extra work she cost them.
People in the neighborhood poked fun at her, but Husband once said, “She was my Grandma, and I loved her. She loved me.” She did not frighten or embarrass him as she did his siblings.
June seemed to understand his frustration, impulsivity, and inattention. She did tell me, though, “The other kids often picked on him. They called him bawl baby because when he got frustrated or when they made fun of him, he cried and cried. His mother and dad would not know what to do. I told them to leave him alone; he would eventually grow out of it.”
I was so frustrated with his pouty and whiny ways, I asked her, “ And just when can I expect him to do that, Grandma?” That was totally rude of me, but it expressed the frustrations many family have with their adult member with ADHD.  June looked intently at me, then she began to laugh. She was Husband’s maternal grandmother, so I now know she knew.
I loved June for her intelligence, orderliness, and sense of what is and is not correct. She had spirit and control.
When he was a small boy, she once washed Husband’s mouth with dish soap for using foul language. After we married, he once used similar words in front of her. She glared harshly at him, “Do I need to get my dish soap, again?”
“No, Grandma,” was his brief, dutiful reply.
June’s marriage to Roy was not always an easy obligation to fulfill. As a result of a debilitating disease, and possibly the need to self-medicate ADHD, Roy became an alcoholic in his early adult years and stayed a drunk for much of his life. Although he eventually sobered up and owned a business, June was the breadwinner for many years, and he often frustrated her.
Even though Husband is not an alcoholic, I think I can relate to her frustration. But Roy also entertained her with his sense of humor. I can relate to that, too. Roy knew how to make his grandchildren howl with laughter, and one of his favorite quips involved his childhood level of poverty.
When I was a boy, we were sooo poor,” he would begin. That was the cue for one of the grandkids to ask, “How poor were you Grandpa?” He would then say, “If I did not wake up with an erection, I would have nothing to play with all day.”
June would also respond, “ROY!” which sent us all into fits of laughter. Roy would get a satisfied snicker across his face.
I think of Husband’s grandmothers for the acceptance they offered him. They made him feel special, and they never gave up on him. They offered praise and kindness, which is important to the person with ADHD of any age.

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