What? Where's the Blog?

Thank you for coming to visit.  I've moved the blog over to a new website called RaisingKin.com.  Why?

The reason I made this move is because I wanted the ability to have pages with links to information for kinship caregivers.  I also wanted to gain experience with website design, because my career is to develop curriculum and learning.  It is helpful for me to learn how to build and maintain a website.  If I don't use what I am learning, I will lose it.  Not to mention it's already hard to remember anything - kidding, kidding.  That's why God made trees - so we would have paper to write notes to remember everything.

Come see the website and bookmark it.  The blogs will be there, under the "Blog" tab.  Here's a link to make it quicker to find:  RaisingKin Blog

Hope to see you at the website!

Amy

Kinship Care: The "F" Word

Hey you all! I am back!! This is my last week of graduate school. Hopefully by this time next week I will be 100% done with all my school work. I have missed being here, telling you my stories of kinship care. I want to thank you all for being patient with me. It was a grind – but we did it!!!

I have been thinking a lot lately about the “F” words – you know the ones, FAIR and FEAR. Today I will talk about fair.

It does not seem fair that I take so much responsibility for a child I love so much, but never imagined would be my responsibility to raise, to keep safe, to handle all the hurts, the tears, and the confusion he feels. Granted, I do get the good stuff too – all the hugs, the “I love you grandma” and just plain laughter.

I will tell you the truth that I believe many kinship caregivers face – we get days when it is so incredibly difficult to not feel very angry at the parents. I have written about some of those days.

My third grandson was born in March. I was so happy for my son and his wife. Everything went perfect, with no complications. My grandson and I drove to the hospital excited to see our newest family member. Of course, Murphy’s Law would happen. The moment I parked my car, my cell phone rang. I saw the number and knew it was my daughter. Here’s the dilemma – should I answer? When she calls, it’s usually a request to drop whatever I am doing and do something for her.

Out of respect for my son, I had not discussed they were expecting a baby. She knew they were, but I just didn’t talk about it with her. It’s complicated – like most decisions are with kinship care. My daughter asked to speak with her son and he told his mom he was going to see his uncles’ baby. He was excited. He gave the phone back to me. My daughter asked me to take some photos with my phone and send her some pictures. I told her I would not because her brother would not appreciate that. She hissed back, “Well, it’s only fair since I can’t see him”.

I think my brain exploded. Fair! Did she really say “fair”? I mean seriously!

I think every kinship caregiver who is raising a relative because the parents are either addicts, alcoholics, or in jail – which is the large majority of us – would all feel the same shock. It seems like the last person to talk about fairness would be the parent.

I know drug and alcohol addiction makes it impossible for her to see the truth. That’s how I coped with her statement – and continue to always remind myself. She is sick – physically, mentally and spiritually. She doesn’t understand because she is sick and can’t understand.

It’s not fair. Nobody said being a kinship caregiver would be fair, feel fair, or look fair. In fact, it’s not fair. That is the reality of kinship care and we see the reality every time we look at our child relative.

Let’s face it. Things weren’t fair when we were a kid and whined to our parents, “it’s not fair!”. Maybe that feeling of injustice carries into adulthood. However, by now we have the sense to know that even though something may not feel fair, it can still be the right thing to do. It’s time to get over the, “it’s not fair!”

I am a grandma raising my grandson. It’s all good. And I am glad to be back.

Just a reminder:  please come visit me at my website - which is where I will be moving this blog to:  www.raisingkin.com. 

Moved to Website

Hi everyone!

I'm getting this website/blog going, so please come see me at www.raisingkin.com

Please consider bookmarking the website and sharing it with all your social networks (Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, etc).

I am so grateful for my readers and I hope you will move along with me to this new site.  I think we will have more fun at the webpage, can share ideas and resources we know about.  Together we can raise awareness of kinship care and our needs - and victories! :)

My posts on this blog will be copied over, so the history will be at the website.

I'm excited to get this far!!!  I hope you are, too.

I want to sing like Dora the Explorer, "We did it, we did it!"

See you there!

Kinship Care: It's All My Fault

Kinship caregivers raise their relatives for many reasons.  Parents may have problems with drugs or alcohol.  They may not want to parent their child(ren).  The parent(s) may have died.  The parent(s) might be incarcerated.  There are many reasons and it’s important to understand that although my daughter is an addict who neglected her son, not all relatives raising their relative are doing so because of addictions.

For those who are raising their relative because the parent(s) are addicts or alcoholics, perhaps you will relate to this story.

My daughter is 26 years old and a meth addict.  She tells me the reason she is a drug user is because I was a bad mother.  She has also told me she resents how I raise her son – that I do a much better job raising him than I did raising her.    

When she says I was a bad mother, there is a part of me that really hurts. If I am completely honest, I was not a perfect parent. I made mistakes.  Her dad and I divorced when she was four.  I moved a lot.  When she was seven I remarried.  Seven years later, another divorce and we moved again. She did have a lot to deal with.  Add to that her behavioral issues I worried about since she was just a toddler.  Those behaviors later led to her diagnosis of bipolar, borderline personality disorder, anxiety, obsessive/compulsive disorder, and more.  She was not an easy child to parent.

We were also poor when I wasn’t married and a one-income household. My daughter will claim that was a hardship for her.  Until 2003, I never earned more than $15,000/year.  I do not believe being poor made me a bad mother or caused my daughter to be an addict. Being poor did make me see there had to be another way – a better way.

When I was 36 I set out to earn my bachelor’s degree by the time I was 40.  In 2004, at age 40, I earned my bachelor’s degree and my income rose to a livable level – the lower end of middle-class status. I then set a goal to try to earn a master’s degree by the time I would be 50.  Today at age 48, I am two months away from earning my master’s degree.

I can’t go back in time and fix my mistakes parenting my daughter.  I don’t get a “do over”.  I agree with my daughter that I am doing a better job parenting at age 48 than I did in my 20’s and 30’s.  As we age, we get wiser.  We have experiences to draw upon.  Isn't that a good thing?

My daughter has a disease called addiction and it is not my fault or the direct result of my parenting.  Addicts and alcoholics look for people to blame and my daughter is no different.  She blames me.  I have to remember what Alanon teaches me: I didn’t cause it, I can’t control it, and I can’t cure it. 

On the left sidebar of this blog there is a link to private online support groups for kinship caregivers.  I invite any kinship caregiver reading this to please consider joining these private online support groups.

Without the help of my kinship support group friends, I would continue to feel very isolated with my experiences as a kinship caregiver.  Having an online group of friends and their support has made a huge difference in my ability to handle being a relative raising a relative.  The groups are closed to the public so what you share will not appear on your Facebook public page. You can also choose not to share anything and just read the experiences other members share.  You will see you are not alone. You will see, as I have, it is not our fault. Come join us.  If you don’t like it, you can always leave.

To my readers of this blog, thank you for your support and encouragement.  I do hope sharing these stories give you strength and hope.  Thank you for being so courageous and parenting your relative.  You did not look the other way when you saw a child needed their family.

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

Kinship Caregiving: Sacrifices

Families change in many ways when we raise relatives.  Some seem obvious, such as the financial hardships that occur when we suddenly find ourselves raising a relative.  Some changes are not so obvious.  When I took responsibility for raising my grandson in 2008, I owned a severe macaw bird and a cat.

In 2009, I had to find a home for my bird.  He was becoming loud and was biting my grandson.  After he bit my grandson a second time, I knew my bird would have to go.  It was a devastating decision for me.  I had owned my macaw for seven years and truly thought I would have him until I die.  Macaws can easily live 70 years or more.    

Another year went by and my grandson was three.  He was running around in our apartment, jumping, falling, and making noises that toddlers make.  I had neighbors living below my apartment and above my apartment.  Although my neighbors never complained openly, I worried about the noise.  I knew we needed to move to a home where he could run and play like three-year olds do. 

I found a side-by-side bungalow rental.   The rent was nearly the same and we would have a yard and a long driveway that would be great for summertime.  There was one drawback – the landlord didn’t allow pets and I had a cat.  Once again, I had to find a home for my pet so we could move to a place that was “kid-friendly”.

I never thought raising a relative would mean losing my pets.  We do what we need to do.  I am not the first relative who had to move or make other difficult sacrifices in order to raise a relative.

We have been living in our bungalow for over two years.  I still firmly believe a child should grow up with a pet.  I believe having a pet can teach a child about responsibility, how to nurture, and can help kids express feelings.  I don’t really want to move so we can have a pet.  We like where we live. 

I decided to give my landlord a call and ask if he would reconsider his ‘no pet’ policy.  I figured the worst that could happen is he would tell me no.  I got up my courage, said a quick prayer, and called him.  I told him I have lived in his property for nearly three years and I have been a good tenant.  I take care of his property and pay my rent. I told him I felt it is important for children to grow up with a pet and I want to give my grandson the same opportunity.  I asked him if we could have a cat.

To my surprise, he said yes!  I was thrilled! 

Last week we brought home “Butter”, an orange and white cat.  He doesn’t seem to mind being half-carried, half dragged around our house by a five-year old boy! 

As a kinship caregiver, I have made many sacrifices to raise my grandson.  Being able to have a pet again feels like I am finally able to have a piece of my “old” life back. 

I am one happy grandma raising my grandson (and a cat).  It’s all good.

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.

Boundaries with Family

Today the topic is boundaries. I have not always had very good boundaries throughout my life.  I have to make very conscious efforts to have boundaries.  My first reaction is to always want to defend myself in retaliation to hurtful words.  I get busy trying to make my point or defend myself.  It never occurred to me there are other options – like having boundaries.

My daughter posted a photo of herself yesterday on Facebook.  She has lost a lot of weight and hair – side effects of meth. 

I saw the picture and I saw all the “likes” people were giving the photo. How do people give a “thumbs up” to people who are killing themselves from drug use, who have lost their families to their drug addiction?

One “friend” on her Facebook page commented she didn’t look so good.  I agreed, so I entered a comment that she doesn’t look good, gave the number for Teen Challenge – a treatment center – and wrote I hope she will call them.  In response, she replied, “Can’t you ever say anything nice?” and added several hurtful, spiteful comments.  The words were vulgar and included profanity.  I guess she really wanted to make a point.....

Quite suddenly I realized I don’t have to take this!  I did something I never would have thought to do in the past.  I unsubscribed from her on Facebook. 

Oh that was hard!  Following my daughter on Facebook has been my only method to know she is even alive.  Yet, I finally have enough sense to know I don’t need to be called names by anyone – including my daughter.  

This is the sad truth of raising a relative whose parent(s) are lost in drug addiction. We hope for the best, we say prayers for their wellbeing. We worry. In the end, it’s out of our control. I can focus on what is possible – to take good care of her son and my grandson, raise him with love, and do my best to help hep him know the good things about his mom.  My daughter is not all bad.  She is very sick, caught up in meth addiction. It is not her we don't like or get angry with.  It's meth.

A mentor once told me the more I try to “help”, the more I am telling my God that I don’t trust He will care for her.  It is not my job to be her “Higher Power”.  Thinking about that has helped me.

It’s in God’s hands, not mine.  He knows the big picture, not me.  He will keep her safe or bring her home.  Meanwhile, I will stay focused and what I can do – love the family and friends who are here.

Accepting the Seemingly Unacceptable

In a fellowship I belong to, there is a saying “acceptance is key to everything”.  The longer we fight accepting something, the longer we stay stuck or miserable. I find it is so hard to accept things I just don’t want to accept.  The past three years were very difficult raising my grandson.  I could not or would not accept the situation was not a temporary situation.

I thought when I got my grandson surely it would be my daughter’s “bottom” and she would go to treatment, get well and he would go back to her.  That’s what a “good” parent does, right? It didn’t happen.

I next thought that surely his dad would raise him since he has been actively “involved” with his son since I got him.  That didn’t happen and he doesn’t want to fulltime parent.

A year ago I finally went to see a counselor.  She has been a big help, guiding me through my feelings.  I have finally come to true acceptance.  I am a permanent “parent” and will be raising my grandson. 

It is good to come to peace with this.  I don’t know why it took three years to get here.  I suppose in my selfishness, I wanted MY life back.  I didn’t want to deal with developmental delays, occupational therapies, speech therapies, physical therapies, high daycare bills, doctor appointments, meltdowns, bedtimes, potty training.  It felt like I was going backwards with my life instead of forward.

Finally I am at peace with the situation.  I can let myself enjoy the moments, instead of waiting for the moments to end and have my life back.  I laugh again more instead of cry.

One thing my counselor told me is that it will get easier as my grandson gets older.  She is right.  Now that he is five, can talk in a way I can understand, it is easier.  Sometimes he regresses in his behavior, like after his mom left again.  Yet, when he does, I know it’s just a temporary situation.  I can finally truly enjoy him.  Yes, he still has delays in his development, but he has come so far.

How nice it feels to accept what I thought I would never be able to accept – I am raising my grandson.  I am one of over two million other relatives raising a relative.  We are so brave and courageous.  We are loyal to our families.  I feel good about that now, and at peace.  Finally.

Acceptance is key to everything.  Acceptance is not saying you like something, agree with something.  It is just saying I am okay with this.

Remember the saying “it takes a village to raise a child”?  I think it takes a family to raise a child.  I am grateful today for my family. 

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

Books For Our Kids

Here are some books that may be helpful for our kids. I do not claim to have read them, but some of them sound very good. See what you think. Check if your library has them or try Amazon.

Author: Martha Whitmore Hickman
Title: Robert Lives With His Grandparents: A Concept Book
Ages: 4 - 8
Date: 1995
Robert’s parents are divorced, and he lives with his grandparents. When his grandmother decides to attend Parent’s Day at his school, he is afraid of what the other kids will think of him.

Author: Jeanne Warren Lindsay
Title: Do I Have a Daddy?
Ages: 4 – 8
Date: 1991
A read aloud book to help caregivers respond to children’s questions about a parent they have never seen.

Author: Tololwa Mollel
Title: Kele’s Secret
Ages: Elementary School – picture book
Date: 1997
A young African boy who lives with his grandparents on their coffee farm follows their hen in order to find out where she is hiding her eggs.

Author: Cindy Klein Cohen and John T. Heiney
Title: Daddy’s Promise
Ages: 4 – 8
Date: 1997
Addresses all the different feelings children may have as they grieve a loved one. (Available through bookstores or amazon.com)


Author: Brigitte Weninger
Title: Good-Bye Daddy!
Ages: 4 – 9
Date: 1995
After spending the day with his daddy, a young bear is sad and angry that his father has to leave. The bear comes to learn that even when a father lives in another home, the love and caring never go away.

Author: Laurene Krasny Brown and Marc Brown
Title: Dinosaurs Divorce: A Guide for Changing Families
Ages: 5 – 10
Date: 1986
Dinosaur characters depict the range of experiences and feelings encountered by children of divorced parents.

Author: Elizabeth Weitzman
Title: Let’s Talk About When A Parent Dies
Ages: 5 - 9
Date: 1996
Gives advice on surviving the death of a parent and suggests what feelings and behaviors to expect from others.

Author: Jill Krementz
Title: How It Feels When a Parent Dies
Ages: 8 – 13
Date: 1981
Children, ages seven through sixteen, tell how it feels to lose a parent through death.

Author: Maureen K. Wittbold
Title: Let’s talk About When a Parent is in Jail
Ages: Early Elementary
Date: 1997
Discusses why jail exits, why people go to jail and how to deal with a person in jail.

Author: Jill Hastings and Marion Typpo
Title: An Elephant in the Living Room: the Children’s
Book and An Elephant in the Living Room: a
Leader’s Guide for Helping Children of Alcoholics
Ages: 4 – 8 and their caregivers
Date: 1994
These books help children from alcoholic homes learn about addiction and teach new ways to handle their feelings.


Author: Ruth White
Title: Belle Prater’s Boy
Ages: Young Adult - fiction
Date: 1996
When Woodrow’s mother disappears suddenly, he moves to his grandparent’s home in a small Virginia town. He befriends his cousin and together they find the strength to face the terrible losses and fears in their lives.

Depression and kinship caring

As I read research about the health and wellbeing of kinship caregivers, I learn there is an increase in health problems that are seemingly related to caring for our relative. Although I do have bouts with depression, I would not tie the problem exclusively to being a kinship caregiver. I wonder how researchers make that leap.

When a relative takes on the “parenting” role for a relative, there typically is a traumatic life event that has happened – for both the child(ren) and the relative caregiver. The first time my grandson was placed with me, it was because a drug raid took place at his parents’ home. I received a call from my daughter asking me to take her son or he would go to foster care. I had less than a minute to make this decision! And that is a big decision to make. I was trying to process what she was telling me – the police were at her home, they were looking for drugs, she was going to jail, and a social worker was taking her son! That is a lot of information to take in!

I quickly agreed to take my grandson, but I had no idea at that time what that decision would mean.

Was I depressed? Of course I was! My daughter was arrested, my grandson was with me on a fulltime basis, and there were many uncertainties to figure out. How would I continue working fulltime in a job I just started three weeks before the phone call? How would I afford to buy formula, diapers, and clothing? Where would I get help to pay daycare that was over $200 per week for an “infant”? Who would help? Would I qualify for any help?

My point is, dramatic life events such as this one are bound to impact the emotional well-being of anyone! Was my depression or sadness from caring for my grandson or was it due to trying to process everything that was happening and making very big adjustments to my day-to-day life as I knew it? I think it is both and tying my depression exclusively to raising my grandson is not a true statement.

I also have to wonder how the age of the kinship caregiver plays into the health issues. Wouldn’t it make sense that going through such a traumatic event would make any current health issue flare up? I know when I am feeling a lot of stress my rheumatoid arthritis flares up significantly. If a kinship caregiver is older and has health issues related to the normal aging process, wouldn’t they flare up?

I suppose there is truth stating our health suffers, but it seems a bit misleading. Older people generally do have aging health concerns. Stress can make them flare up. Is the source of the stress raising a child or is it grieving the loss of the parent. After all, it is not only the child who lost a parent, but in my case, I lost my daughter to drug addiction and honestly, I miss her too.