The stigma surrounding living with grandparents is generally not a positive one; boring, crowded, and annoying might be some of the words that come to mind. People who are nodding their heads right now, agreeing with my previous statement, clearly did not share the same experience as me. I lived with my Oma and Papa (aka grandma and grandpa) for the first seven years of my life in sunny Huntington Beach, California. I was living the ultimate dream; being an only child, the youngest of my cousins AND being spoiled by my grandparents constantly, what more could a seven-year-old ask for?
Happiness, by definition, is the state of being happy and that was my grandparents' main concern, my happiness. Of course, other things were important too, like school and not eating ice cream for every meal, but that was for my parents to deal with. Grandparents are meant to bring that extra sunshine and love into their grandchildren’s lives and my Oma and Papa did just that.
Sundays with my Papa are my favorite childhood memories. Home Depot would have a building workshop and allow children to come (with a helper) and create different woodwork creations. My grandfather has an ever-growing passion for rebuilding things (and still does today) and this is how we bonded. While I might not have been the greatest at building tool boxes or bird feeders, those memories will forever be close to my heart. I acquired over fifty pins for our completions of work, my Papa and I still have our paint-stained aprons we wore every weekend for years. But the BEST part about those Sunday afternoons were the Slurpees and hot dogs we would get at 7/11 on the way home. It is the little things that formed the foundation for my relationship I have with my grandfather today; days with Oma were a little different. Nails. Shopping. Breakfast at Ruby’s pier, but most importantly Frappuccino’s with the caffeine are just some of the hundreds of memories I have with my grandma while growing up. I loved talking (still do, but I have mellowed out) and my Oma was always listening, no matter how much I was talking about literally nothing, she listened with the same enthusiasm every single time.
Looking back at just a few of these memories reminds me of nothing besides love and happiness, I loved living with my grandparents more than anything in the world. When I moved out the summer before I started third grade was easily the worst day of my life. I did not want to leave my oasis, sugary cereal, unlimited snacks and the drumsticks. But I think I was truly sad about leaving because I was no longer going to be woken up by my Papa and spend my mornings with him, or come home from school and seeing my Oma already preparing one of my favorite snacks, or have Friday morning donut holes with banana milk with my Papa from the donut shop down the street.
Living with my grandparents was more than just what appeared to seem like a fairytale; my Oma and Papa taught me the importance of sharing, by forcing (yes, I mean forcing) to share the two dozen donuts with my class. The art of listening- if someone is rambling it does not mean you can ignore them, listening is an important characteristic to have. But most importantly, love and happiness.
Until I was a junior in high school, I was down at my grandparents’ house, without a doubt, every other weekend to hang out in my oasis. Thank you, Oma, and Papa for being my siblings for the first seven years of my life, thank you for showing me different aspects of the world, and most importantly, thank you for giving me unconditional love.
