Yesterday, I shared a snapshot of my youngest daughter swinging in the sun—she’s 2, with golden hair and sparkling blue-green eyes. From what I’ve gathered, she resembles my mom at the same age quite a bit. I mentioned this in my text, and my mom replied with an enthusiastic “LOL. Absolutely!” My mom, now in her early 60s, only upgraded to a smartphone a couple of years back, and honestly, it has transformed our relationship for the better.
This isn’t to say we have a rocky relationship; we don’t. However, it’s complicated. When I was 12, after my dad left and before he passed away, I made the decision to move out while my mom was working her second job. It was a chaotic time, and I felt I had no choice. I floated between homes, tried living with my dad, but that didn’t pan out. Eventually, I ended up living with my paternal grandmother, a woman I adored but whom my mom couldn’t stand.
There’s definitely more to this tale, but the essence is that our relationship has been strained ever since. Now, at 33 and a father of three, I want my kids to bond with their grandmother. The catch? Conversations often feel steeped in the bitterness of our past. I want her to know what my children are up to, and I want them to know her. I envision her visiting, but the shadows of our history make it tough for her to step into the grandmother role that I know she longs to fill. It’s heartbreaking that my kids are missing out due to our past mistakes.
Currently, my mom resides in Utah, while I’m in Oregon. She visits occasionally, and I do the same, but if I had to count how many times she’s seen her grandkids in the seven years since we left Utah, I’d estimate somewhere between seven and ten. I know she’s eager to be involved, but the distance and our shared history complicate things. So instead of delving into difficult discussions over the phone, I send her pictures once or twice a week—images of my kids playing in the yard or indulging in ice cream—moments every grandmother cherishes. Occasionally, I send videos of my kids being goofy or playing sports. Our chats don’t last long; she often asks me to tell the kids she loves them and sends pictures of her home to share with them. Everything happens through text.
To my friends with healthy parent-child relationships, this may sound bizarre, but honestly, this is the best relationship I’ve had with my mom. The past feels filtered out through our texts. We avoid rehashing old wounds, and our conversations skip the awkward silences that often accompany attempts to discuss everything except the elephant in the room. Instead, we exchange pictures and emojis, as if our past grievances don’t matter anymore. Best of all, my kids are blissfully unaware of any underlying tension; they’ve never remarked on the awkwardness that can arise during Skype calls or visits. My wife has noticed, though, and we both understand that the kids are still young—under 10, in fact.
Maybe this is a common scenario for children of divorced parents, or perhaps many families connect through texts and photos in similar ways. It could just be our unique situation. Recently, Mom joined Facebook. Though she’s a decade late to the party, it seems to give her a youthful vibe. Now we have another platform to share our lives; she comments on my photos, and I reciprocate. We don’t chat much, but a simple “heart” from her feels warmer than any other interaction on my social media. My kids often ask to see what Grandma is sharing online, which brings them closer together.
None of this is perfect. I don’t think either of us envisioned grandparenting through texts and Facebook, but after years of navigating a rocky relationship, it’s become a viable option. Reflecting on this gives me motivation to strive for a better connection with my own children. It also fills me with hope that perhaps utilizing text and social media could pave the way for a renewal in my relationship with my mom, one where I can ask her for advice and chat freely without the weight of past memories holding us back.
In conclusion, while texting and social media may not be the traditional routes for family bonding, they have offered a valuable lifeline for reconnecting with my mother and allowing my kids to share in that connection too.
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