MY wife and I – who are the same age – became grandparents at the age of 50 after marrying at 22 and having five children. I knew being parents would be a great experience of ups and downs, but I’ve discovered that grandparenting has its ups but never any downs – not for me, anyway.
With my oldest grandson turning 14 this year, I want to reflect on the joy of being part of the lives of my four grandkids. I believe there is a lesson in life for all of us in this, as well as a message for our nation.
When Hamzah, my first grandchild, was a toddler, my daughter was working in Melaka while her husband was working in Kuala Lumpur, leaving her with her son on her own during weekdays. Though she lived in a nice, friendly neighbourhood with childcare a few houses away, my wife and I made sure to drive up from where we lived then, in Skudai, Johor, weekly.
We would do chores and pick up Hamzah from childcare to take him out to play while waiting for our daughter to come home. The great joy was seeing his face light up and call out Atok and Nenek upon recognition.
Later. Khalid and Nayla were born. And when they became toddlers, they were sent to a daycare centre in Bandar Utama, Selangor, where my daughter’s job had taken her.
Hamzah, meanwhile, was in a private school that I paid for as I did not want my grandkids in any public school – I found public schools to be unsafe and uncaring.
Again, the great joy was in Khalid and Nayla shrieking out of happiness when Atok and Nenek came to pick them up. All three were easy with us both because we often met them. We watched them learn to walk and talk, and that was a most precious experience.
When Alfie, my fourth grandchild came, her mother, my fourth child, was not the happiest. She and her husband did not plan to have a child at the time but divine providence had other plans for them, I guess.
Financial worries were at least something I could help with, so I offered to take care of the hospital stay. Just as well because the usual delivery cost at the time of RM4,000 suddenly ballooned to RM20,000 when she needed a Caesarean section.
After her three months of maternity leave, Alfie was placed in a daycare centre that cost RM900 a month. My daughter was only paid RM3,000 for her teaching job, so my wife and I offered to help.
Again, I said not to worry, I will pay the monthly charge – you should use the time to learn to be a good mother. After two years, she is a great mum, and from what I can see, she and her husband can’t imagine life without Alfie.
At this time, my daughter and her family lived in Cyberjaya. My wife and I were not as strong as we used to be by then and had stopped travelling as much; we never got into the habit of picking Alfie up from the nursery like we did the other three.
By the time he was a toddler, he would treat me and my wife as strangers when my daughter brought him over as we had not had much contact with him. We would have to wait for more than an hour before we could kiss his cheeks; he took a while to acclimatise to the “strangers” around him.
By this time, my wife and I had moved to Kajang, Selangor, and I made every effort to equip our kampung home with all the grandchildren’s desires. There are two desktop gaming computers with sufficient software, two VR devices and two PlayStations along with TVs. But the children also love playing with water guns outside in the large compound – and bathing there too – as it’s something they can’t do in their terraced homes and condos.
Every second Saturday, my wife and I would make the 30-minute journey to Lembah Keramat in Ulu Kelang via the SUKE (Sungai Besi-Ulu Kelang Expressway) and take the kids back to Kajang.
Every school holiday, when both parents have to work, I would insist the children stay with me and my wife for two or three weeks. I did not like the thought of them alone in their homes even with a sitter – I’ve read too many stories about children killed in home fires.
Upon reflection, the idea of children growing up, getting a good job and having children of their own to care for – that repeat of the cycle of life – to me, is a misconception.
Our children, no matter how old, still need us, their parents – for a helping hand with finances, to be there during heated arguments between husband and wife, to offer a nice space for the kids when needed.
Our society does not support young parents with time off or restructuring work to allow for working from home so children can grow up with at least one parent at home but still earning an income. The adult children still need their parents to step in to save the day sometimes.
For the grandchildren, after all the “Nos” from parents about food and screen and play time, grandparents should say yes all the time, if possible. Children need time off from their parents and their discipline, and parents need their “dating” time too.
I am glad that I can still be there for my children and my precious little ones. Other retirees in our shoes might be gallivanting around the world but to me, nothing beats looking after our grandchildren and saying yes to all their desires. They know that they can rely on us grandparents, though they know grandpa can be strict and talking back is never an option.
Our nation has a long way to go in providing support for both young parents and the younger generation that our grandkids are forming. Until we, as a society, can do so, grandparents must always say yes to supporting, nurturing and sheltering our children’s children.
Prof Dr Mohd Tajuddin Mohd Rasdi is Professor of Architecture at the Tan Sri Omar Centre for Science, Technology and Innovation Policy Studies at UCSI University.
The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.
