Sophie, a nail technician at a local walk-in salon, was a graying, zaftig woman with an easy smile and available chair. She was also a skilled schmoozer, and before the pads of my fingers had time to soften in a bowl of warm water, I learned that she’s been a manicurist for 30 years, has two children and a 5-year-old granddaughter, Allie.
Trying to hold up my end of the conversation, I asked, “Are you ready for the holidays?”
“Oh, that’s a sore subject. I’m dreading it.”
Fidgeting with the marbles on the bottom of the water bowl, I took the bait and asked, “Why?”
“Well last year,’ she began, “a couple of weeks before our Chanukah dinner, I called my daughter-in-law to ask what I could bring. I offered to make my pineapple casserole, kugel, blintzes or anything else they wanted. She thanked me for offering but said they didn’t need a thing.”
I nodded, to encourage Sophie to go on, as she filed, clipped and spread the first layer of base coat onto my nails.
With a humph, she continued, “So I took my daughter-in-law at her word and didn’t bring anything except for presents.”
“That makes sense.”
“One would think. But a few minutes after my husband and I arrived, my daughter-in-law’s parents walked in with a dreidel-shaped cake, big enough to feed the entire neighborhood, and three — three! — tubs of ice cream. Vanilla, chocolate and cookie dough.”
“Oh no,” I said, “what did you do?”
“It gets worse,” she assured me, applying my first layer of gel.
“My husband whispered for me to let it go and I tried, until it was time for presents. I couldn’t wait for Allie to open ours. Because she’s obsessed with unicorns, I spent months scouring flea markets, tchotchke shops and jewelry stores looking for unicorn charms. I found 10; one is purple enamel, another has a rhinestone for an eye. My husband attached them to a gold-colored linked bracelet; she’s too young for real gold.”
I tried to keep my hands steady as my second coat of gel set under the lights, and I pictured Allie opening the box to reveal the unicorn charm bracelet.
“She must have been ecstatic,” I said.
Sophie snorted. “Yes, for a while. I helped her with the clasp, and she couldn’t stop looking at her wrist until — until she opened the present from the other grandparents. You’re not going to believe what they bought her.”
“What?”
“An iPad! They bought a five-year-old pisher her own iPad! And, I’ll have you know, it was wrapped in rainbow unicorn paper.”
She sighed and said, “I don’t know what I’ll get for Allie this year — I just can’t compete.”
Sophie isn’t alone in her feelings, nor is competition between grandparents confined to the holidays. There’s a woman from my gym who grumbles because her son-in-law’s mother announced she’s quitting her job to take care of her grandbaby while its parents work. My gym mate is afraid of losing best grandmother status — and the infant is still in utero!
A friend bellyaches because the other grandmother jumps to the front of the line to snag sleepovers. Moreover, “that woman bakes homemade brownies every time the grandchildren visit and lets them eat as many as they want.”
Likewise, a neighbor complains because her in-laws are taking their grandson on a Caribbean cruise for winter break, and she’s never been out of the country.
Like sibling rivalry, competition between divorced parents and envy between friends, some jealousy is natural. Nevertheless, we must soften our judgment and recognize that grandparents are simply aging souls longing to show and receive adoration. Hugs, squeals, and laughter are medicinal, addictive. We up the ante, not to outdo the other side but to capture all we can — while we can.
The thrill of the iPad, unicorn charms, chocolatey brownies and Caribbean trips will wear off, just like the gel on my nails. But the love between a child and grandparent is boundless. There is no need for allocation or quotas.
During this holiday season, amidst the latkes and applesauce, gold-wrapped chocolate gelt, dreidels and menorahs, there is no place for rivalry. Let’s bless our grandchildren with the ultimate gift — the freedom to give and receive love, in whatever form it manifests, and from everyone who adores them.
A Baltimore resident. Laura Black is a retired attorney, businessperson, author and speaker who focuses on the challenges of midlife-plus women with humor and affirmation. Her latest book is “Climbing Down the Ladder: A Journey to a Different Kind of Happy.” She can be reached at laura@laurablack.net
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