Kinship Caregiving: Keeping Relatives Safe

I remember visiting my grandson and his mom (my daughter) during the summer of 2008. My grandson was about 18 months old and they lived almost 40 miles away from me.  I did not see them often after my grandson was returned to his parents in September 2007.  My daughter was angry with me and did not want to see me.  She was angry her son was placed with me the previous summer – as if I had something to do with the drug raid resulting in her son being placed with me! 

When I arrived at her apartment, it was dirty.  There were dishes piled up, crusted with dried food.  The trash was spilling over on to the kitchen floor where my grandson could walk in it.  "Try not to judge" I thought to myself.

I wasn’t sure at the time what was happening with my daughter.  I thought she was going through a hard time, having just left the father of my grandson.  I didn’t know she was already in the life of drugs and addiction.  If I did, then I guess I just didn’t want to see it.

During my visit, her neighbor came to her door.  My grandson hurried to the door, trying to push the door shut to prevent her from coming in.  I thought it was strange behavior.  I certainly got the impression he did not want her coming in! I knew this woman would come over often, only because she frequently answered the phone when I would call. 

I stayed for about two hours.  During the visit, my grandson stayed by my side or on my lap. 

About five minutes after I left, my daughter called me.  I answered the phone and could hear my grandson screaming and crying uncontrollably in the background.  My daughter was laughing, saying “See grandma, he does want you!”  I told her I was driving and couldn’t talk and hung up.  Instead of comforting my grandson, she was laughing! It was a strange call and unsettling.

This memory haunts me today. 

It would be just a few months later that I would piece all the clues together.  My daughter would often leave my grandson with the neighbor lady all day and overnight.  She hadn’t paid her rent for several months and was being evicted.  She would frequently leave my grandson with his father, who would then call me looking for my daughter. 

During the next few months I made numerous calls to the county social worker who worked with my daughter when my grandson was removed from her.  I told the social worker I suspected my daughter was using drugs.  I told her I suspected she was neglecting him.  I also made reports to to my daughter's probation officer.  Every time I would get the same answer – we don’t have enough evidence.

During October of 2007, my daughter was hospitalized for a bad infection in her hip.  While she was in the hospital I took her clothing home to wash them.  Inside her bag of belongings, I found a meth pipe.  I was shocked and wondered what to do. 

I did what I thought was right. I again called the social worker and reported what I found.  I called her probation officer and told him what I found.  The social worker said she could not prove the pipe was around my grandson so there was nothing she could do.  The probation officer said he couldn’t prove the pipe belonged to her since it was not found by the hospital staff – as if I planted a meth pipe in her belongs!

I finally broke down into tears while talking to the social worker.  I begged her to please tell me what could be done to protect my grandson.  It was finally at this point she told me any adult can file an Order for Protection on behalf of a minor if they are concerned about the safety of a child.  How I wished I had known that sooner.  I thought Orders for Protection were used only by adults needing protection.

I remember going to the county court house on October 31, 2008.  I asked the counter clerk for the paperwork to file an Order for Protection.  She gave me the forms and I sat on a bench in the courthouse hallway, filling out the form and writing all the dates and details of everything I knew occurred during the previous months.  My hands were shaking.  Once finished, I handed the paperwork to the clerk.  She told me to have a seat in the hallway and wait for my name to be called.

It was a stressful wait.  Finally the clerk called my name.  I went to the counter and she said, “The judge signed the form.”  I asked her what that meant.  She pointed to the box on the front of the form indicating the judge agreed the child was in danger.

It’s funny.  Even though I felt sure my grandson was in danger, I did not fully trust my observations or intuition.  When I saw the judge’s signature, I let out a deep breath.  I finally felt validated. I was not crazy. What I was seeing was not good and the judge believed the same thing. 

I asked the clerk, “So, it’s okay for me to go get my grandson?  I have the legal right?”  She simply replied, “Yes, ma’am”.

I picked up the paperwork and walked out of the courthouse.  That’s when the tears started.  Finally somebody was helping my grandson!  Finally somebody believed me. 

As a kinship caregiver, I can tell you the “system” does not always work like we think it should or even would.  I was so naïve.  I learned how tricky it can be to prove a child is in danger.  Even when I found the drug pipe, thinking certainly anybody would agree that cannot be a good thing – the legal system (probation officer) and human health services (social worker) could not help my grandson.

From this experience I can tell you that it is very important to keep good notes.  Write down the dates of everything you witness.  Write down who you talked to.  Write it all down because there may come a day when those notes will make a big difference.  Having my notes was so important when I requested the Order for Protection.  I had the dates of every report I ever made and who I spoke with. 

When I think back on that phone call when my grandson was crying so uncontrollably, it still brings tears to my eyes.  I hope to never hear him cry like that again. 

I am a grandma raising my grandson.  It’s all good today.

Kinship Caring: Being a Grandma and Expectations

I am going to be a grandma again on March 7^th.  My son and his wife are expecting their first child.  I am so excited!  I am also nervous.

I am nervous because I wonder if I will know how to be “just” a grandma.  I have been raising my grandson for over three years now.  I was his caregiver for nearly four months during his first year.  Do I know how to be a “love them and leave them” grandparent?  Will I have the time and energy for my new grandbaby while I raise my grandson?  What is “enough time” anyway?

I also wonder how being a “real” grandma will impact my grandson.  If I spoil my new grandchild, will my grandson be jealous?  Will my grandson wish he had a “real” grandma?

Family dynamics change when we become a kinship caregiver.  Roles change. 

In July 2010 my daughter was arrested.  While in jail she found out she was pregnant with her second child.  The court granted a furlough to in-patient treatment instead of jail time.  I am grateful she was able to stay sober until the birth of my second grandson on January 9, 2011.

My daughter made an open adoption plan for the baby.  She found a wonderful couple who lives nearby.  I envisioned I would be involved in my newest grandson’s life as his grandparent. His adopting parents have been so gracious and welcoming.  

I have not done a good job of being a grandma to my second grandson.  Not long after he was born, my daughter left one weekend and never came back.  I had to hurry and find a fulltime daycare for him and take him out of Head Start (a preschool) so I could continue working.  I was back in the “reacting to life” mode of living.

In hindsight, I think I had so much to deal with that I could not think about this new grandson.  When I did, I would cry.  Add to that, my grandson struggled with why his mom was suddenly gone.  This time, he was old enough to miss her after spending six months knowing his mom.  He experienced behavioral setbacks, following me around to each room of our small bungalow, suddenly having to sleep with me every night – something he never did before.

The stress of the situation created a flare-up of my rheumatoid arthritis.  The entire summer of 2011 was filled with daily chronic pain, various physical therapy sessions, doctor appointments, new medications and resulting side-effects.  It was such a struggle to get through each day. 

The next thing I knew, it was fall and ten months had flown by since my second grandson was born. 

During the past three months I have gone to visit my new grandson.  Visiting him creates difficult feelings for me.  I feel like I don’t know him very well and it troubles me.  I am not sure if what I feel is because I did not see him very much the first year or if it is because it is difficult to visit him and not think about my daughter.  Did I miss the “bonding” window of time?  Is there a bonding window of time for grandparents?

So I wonder: do I know how to be a grandparent?

I think the answer is that I can be if I let go of my expectations. 

With the fellowship I am a member of I have learned something about myself.  I tend to either have expectations of how I think other people “should” be or I have expectations of how I should be.  Neither one is good.  I cannot live in the moments of life with joy if I have expectations.  If an expectation is not met, it can lead to feelings of resentment for me, which is really not a good place for me to live in.

I looked up the word ‘expectations’ and learned it is a strong belief that something will happen in the future. It also means a belief that someone should achieve something. Both of these definitions make living in the present nearly impossible.  I would be wise to check my expectations at the door and just live in the moment.  If I am willing to do that, odds are good I will do just fine being “just” a grandma.

I am a grandma.  I am also a grandma raising my grandson.  It’s all good.

Kinship Care Challenges: Looking Back

Remember the book titled “What to Expect When You’re Expecting”?  I wish there was a book like that for kinship caregivers. Raising my grandson is not the same as raising my children. 

As a grandparent raising my grandson, there are more responsibilities.  Many grandparents/relatives inherit a lot of parenting challenges.  The child(ren) may be experiencing depression, anxiety, health problems, behavior problems, school difficulties, aggression, and feelings of anger, rejection, and guilt. 

Parenting any child with emotional or behavior issues is hard enough for any parent, but as a grandparent raising my grandson, it’s more difficult because there are so many other stressors.  There are legal and financial problems, dealing with difficult feelings about the parent(s), handling grief, isolation, emotional stress and possibly health concerns because we are older.

Looking back, I received a crash-course in the following:

• Child protection laws
• Filing an Order for Protection
• Applying for state/government assistance – financial, food stamps, medical assistance
• Finding and paying for daycare so I could keep working
• Determining if I could handle working fulltime plus raise my grandson
• Understanding foster care vs. no foster care and which was best in my situation
• Applying for social security disability for my grandson
• Learning about special education for my grandson’s developmental delays
• Understanding his needs as a child who experienced neglect
• Finding professional counseling
• Locating support groups specifically for kinship caregivers
• Locating an attorney knowledgeable of kinship care
• Shifting from a grandparent role to a parent role
• Handling difficult emotions, such a grieving, anger, and resentment
• Dealing with my daughter who is an addict
• Dealing with my grandson’s father and his unwillingness to do what is necessary to raise his son
• Filing police reports against my daughter when she violated the Order for Protection

When I look at this list, I can see why the first three years were so difficult for me.  There is a lot to work through, and too often we feel as if we are trying to handle all these questions and issues alone.  I felt as if I were climbing a huge mountain, with no end in sight.

What helped me was to remember the reason I am raising my grandson:  I love him. Coming back to that fact helped me to keep going. He is my family, no less important than my own children.  I do not want strangers raising him, or that he would ever think his family did not care enough about him to help him.  He is worth every single challenge.

If you are a kinship caregiver, don’t give up.  Things do settle down with time.

I am a grandma raising my grandson.  It’s all good.

Kinship Caring: Missing Mom Moments

Being a kinship caregiver has some heartbreaking moments.  It’s always a dilemma for me to figure out the best way to comfort my grandson when he misses his mom.  Thank God for other kinship caregivers who share their wisdom and stories.

This past week, my grandson heard me talking on the phone with his grandfather.  When the phone call ended, I looked at him and could see he was troubled.  He asked me what we were talking about.

I told him that his grandpa called because he was worried about his mom and wanted to know if we had heard from her. 

“Grandma, can I say a bad word?” he asked.  I wanted to know what his five-year old mind was thinking about, so I said, “Yes, you can say a bad word this one time”.

His voice got soft and quiet.  He whispered, “This is not nice, but I have to say it.  I hate mom.” And then he put his head in my chest, as if to cover his face.  I held him.  Then he said, “I love my mom”.

I told my grandson, “You know what? Sometimes I miss your mom so much. Sometimes I am so angry with your mom because I want her to come home.  I love you, buddy. We just miss your mom.”  

He stayed in my arms for a few minutes.  We didn’t talk.  We didn’t need to.  We just sat in the kitchen, hugging each other and missing mom. 

Then it was time to color pictures and be five.

It is not easy to have these conversations.  It breaks my heart to see him hurting.

I know it is not good to stay focused on what is wrong in life.  When I do that, I feel angry and bitter which doesn’t solve anything or make anything any easier. I miss out on life’s good stuff if I stay angry and bitter.

When I look for the good, I can find it.  When I look for bad, I can find it.  I am going to look for the good.  I was able to help my grandson when he was sad.  That’s a good thing. 

I am a grandma raising my grandson.  Yes, it’s all good.

Kinship Caring: A Safety Net

Custodial grandparents provide a safey net for our grandchildren when the parent(s) are not involved with their child(ren). We know their parents. I think it helps our grandchildren that we do know the parents.  As grandparents, we can give our granchildren love, security, stability and patience perhaps more than a foster home can.  Researchers Hayslip & Kaminski (2005) made the same observation.

I do feel I am a "safety net" for my grandson.  I am my grandson’s link to knowing his mom.  Based only on my life experiences, it seems no matter how “bad” a parent is, most kids are still going to hold their mom and dad in high esteem.  My grandson is too little to understand drugs.  However, he does understand that his family loves him and that families can be made in all kinds of ways. 

The holidays went by without his mom.  Not even a phone call.  He didn’t talk about his mom being gone over the holidays.  It wasn’t until after Christmas was over and the tree was down that he mentioned her.  What he said was so sad.  “Grandma, my mom doesn’t want to see me.”

My heart ached for him.  What could I say? 

I tried to tell him (again) that when people take drugs, they forget about their family because that is what drugs do.

This time I added, “I know your mom does miss you.  I know your mom loves you.  In fact, your mom knew she might not be able to take care of you and that’s why you live with me.  She picked me to take care of you!  When you were just a baby your mom called ME to come get you because she wanted you to be with her mom.  She knew I would love you and she wants me to love you while she is gone.”

He thought about that.

“You are my mom?” he asked, trying to follow along with his little five-year old reasoning.

“Well, I am your mom’s mom and I am sort of your mom because I am your GRAND mom.” I replied.

The conversation then shifted to more serious topics, like is Spider Man stronger than the Hulk?

I know this conversation will come up again – maybe soon, maybe not.  But it will come up again.

I am the safety net for him.  That’s what kinship caregivers do.  We fill that void of the missing parent.  We make sure they know they have family who loves them.  Many will, like me, try to let their child relative know that although they are not with the parent(s), they are with family.  I think that is important. I also believe that is why we do what we do.  There is no financial incentive to be the safety net.  In fact, most kinship caregivers take a huge financial setback to raise their relative(s).  But we are family and families are made in all kinds of ways.

I am a grandma raising my grandson.  It’s all good.

Reference:

Hayslip Jr., B. & Kaminski, P. L. (2005). Grandparents raising their grandchildren: A review of the literature and suggestions for practice. The Gerontologist, (45)2, pp. 262-269.

Grieving and Kinship Caregiving

So often during the past four years I felt angry.  I was angry with my daughter.  I was angry with my grandson’s father. I was angry with the other grandparents and relatives.  I was angry with my friends. I was angry with the government.  I was angry with the court system.  I was angry with the police.  I was angry. 

At least I thought I was.

On January 2, 2007 my best friend died from cancer.  I was with her when she died.  It was one of the saddest moments of my life.  Every day I missed her for at least two solid years.  Every single day I thought about her and my heart would ache.  She was only 42 years old.

At some point, I stopped thinking about her every single day.  At some point, the heaviness in my heart lightened. I don’t know what day that happened, but it did.  The sadness eased up and eventually left.  Today when I think of my friend, I don’t feel that deep, aching sadness.    

Grieving the death of my friend is how it felt becoming a kinship caregiver.  Grieving is feeling the brokenness in our heart.  Grieving is caused by feeling a loss.  

In the beginning, I was a broken-hearted kinship caregiver, trying to provide care, when my heart was broken. Certainly there were things to feel angry about, but in hindsight, I believe I was grieving more than I was angry.  

I lost my daughter to meth addiction.  Sure, she is alive, but she is gone. I cannot tell you where she is today.  She has no known phone number to call her.  She has no known address.  She is homeless and that is so sad to me. I love her and I miss her.  This is my loss.

I was grieving because my grandson had so many delays in his development.  His pediatrician states they are likely due to neglect. He needed weekly therapies for speech, fine motor skills and gross motor skills.  That makes me sad.  This is my loss.

I was grieving my life.  I thought I was done raising kids.  I had earned my bachelor’s degree at age 40, was starting an actual “career” instead of a “job”, and was making plans and having goals.  Suddenly, plans changed.  My dreams for my career had to be revised.  This is my loss.

For me it is important to remember pain and loss are a part of everyone’s life.  The more alone or unique I think I am with my pain and loss, the longer I stay stuck. 

The best thing I did was reach out for support.  It is important to know there are other kinship caregivers who have experienced many of the same feelings.  They have walked this difficult path, know the challenges, the losses, and are living in the sunlight.  Yes, there is sunlight after the initial darkness.  They give me hope and strength.

If you are grieving, give yourself time, and know that you will come through this.  You will laugh again.  Very likely, it will be that very person you are caring for who will put the smile on your face and laughter in your heart.  You’ll see. 

I am a grandma raising my grandson.  It’s all good.

Shame, shame, shame

Sometimes I feel ashamed I am raising my grandson. After all, there is that saying, “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”.  Ouch.

Sometimes I think it’s my “fault” that my daughter is an addict and not raising her son.

Maybe I didn’t do enough or did too much.  Maybe I should have tried harder or prayed more.  Maybe, because I had my own issues to deal with in life, I created her problems. All the maybe’s……

I was not a fabulous parent.  I sure wasn’t Betty Crocker.  But I did not neglect my children, never provide for them or ever stop loving them.  I also know when it comes to trying to be a good parent, I did do my best with what I knew how to do at the time. 

When my daughter was just a toddler I knew there was something not quite right with her behavior.  I didn’t know what that something was, but I tried my hardest to figure it out and get her help.  By the time she was five years old, I was driving two hours away for her to see a child psychologist.  It didn’t help.

This was back in the late 80’s.  Therapists were not diagnosing kids with ADD, ADHD, oppositional defiance, or obsessive/compulsive behavior.  Yet, by the time she was into her “tweens”, she was diagnosed (labeled) with all of these, plus depressed, anxious, bipolar, borderline personality disorder and more.  By the time she was 18 she qualified for government disability payments.

By the time she was 18, she was already an addict.

My daughter has an addiction – not a parenting problem.  Alanon has a saying that I tell myself often:  I didn’t cause it, can’t control it, and can’t cure it.  Sometimes I have to replay that statement over and over in my mind.

Shakespeare suggested, “There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.”  I practice watching my thoughts and choose to focus on what is right rather than what is wrong. When I get down, I get a piece of paper and write out what I am grateful for.  This action of purposeful redirection of my thoughts helps me. It only takes only a couple minutes to jot down a list. Making a list stops my anxieties from getting the best of me.

Today I am not concerned if “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”.  I am a good tree!

I am a grandma raising my grandson.  It’s all good.