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The Grandkids

  "So, do you have any grandkids?" I was asked the other day.

"No!" I replied, taken aback at the question.

Clearly I have passed the due date to be asked if I merely have any children.

That biological clock has long since sailed and as the lines on my face get clearer, the question now turns generational.

Do I have any grandkids?

I have always dreaded the question do I have any children, as if by saying "no" I am some sort of a failure, failing the system, failing the country, failing the future.

I am always asked these questions by people who do have children and grandchildren, and who are only too happy to open their phones and show me the latest pictures of their offspring.

I, on the other hand, do not have pictures of offspring.

Only cats and horses.

And flowers and rainbows and sunsets and full moons and clouds and beautiful scenery and anything else that takes my eye.

I must say in my 20's I certainly yearned to have children.

So much so that I vowed that if I reached 30 without a husband, I would go ahead and have a child of my own anyway.

Thankfully, when I reached 30, I came to my senses.

I had a fabulous little career getting underway as a broadcast journalist, had just been hired by the tv station CKVR-TV in Barrie as an anchor and reporter, and I did not have the time or the inclination to give up my body and my life and my livelihood for a year or twenty.

And now that I have reached my 60's, I have no regrets.

I can clearly see now that I was not cut out for motherhood in any way shape or form.

My own birth family was a toxic and dysfunctional mess and I did not have a good role model as to how a proper family should be.

I would also not have been able to tolerate the chaos and mess that accompanies children.

The crayons on the wall, the toys to be stepped on, the dirty diapers.

Clearly, some women are cut out for that, and all the best to them.  They are better women than I in that department.

They have the patience and the support systems in place to help them.

I did not.

Even after getting married at 36 I still did not have any inclination to spawn another human being.

They say it takes a village to raise a child.

I did not have that village.

And now the question has become not just did I have any children, but the next generation, any grandkids.

I am a bit sad that I don't have any of those.

Now I would be able to tolerate a bit of the mess and chaos, I dare say.

They would be cute and cuddly and when they mess their diapers, can be handed back to their parents.

A friend of mine has a grandchild that she babysits on a daily basis.

It takes up a lot of her time, but I have to say I have never seen her smile so much as when she is with her grandchild.

The thought that children make us young again is true.

We can relive our childhoods through them, learn as they learn, teach them and show them things and marvel as they grow and evolve into little human beings.

And so I will happily look at pictures of people's grandkids on their phones and social media posts.

A little torn that if I had had children, I may have had a grandchild.

There are no guarantees of course.

But hindsight is 20/20, and there is no way to change the past or try to wish for anything different.

And kudos to those who have managed to have children who gave them a grandchild or two.

That was not my life path, and I have no regrets.

Just please don't judge me.

And don't feel sorry for me.

It was not meant to be for me and I am sorry that I can't chime in with stories about comparing grandkids.

I will happily listen to your stories, though, as I can clearly see that they make you happy and proud.


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