a monarch and a missed call

a walk, a voicemail and a reunion with a very important person

all four of my grandparents are still alive, and i don’t have a relationship with any of them.

my mother never really got along with her family. i rarely saw my uncles and cousins, but i did spend some time being looked after by my grandma when i was younger. then, she and my mom had a major falling out, and i stopped seeing those grandparents entirely when i was about twelve.

i knew my father’s parents more. they were the ones we saw on christmas, the ones invited to my graduation. but i was never a huge fan of my grandmother- which made me feel guilty because she loved me fiercely and loudly. my parents pushed me to show her the affection she craved, because everyone was afraid of upsetting her. she was controlling, self-centred, homophobic, and drunk. she was the victim in every situation and she spent her time complaining and deflecting blame. she made me angry, and i yelled at her often.

my poppa wasn’t around much, and when he was, he kept to himself. my grandma told him what to do and when to do it. he was soft-spoken, kind and funny. we didn’t do much when we were together. i didn’t like being there. the house smelled like cigarette smoke and i left with it in my bones.

now, even the rest of my estranged family doesn’t talk to her. i don’t either. i’ve thought about reaching out, maybe one day- just to tell her i’m gay, maybe get inspiration for a character i’m writing. but i’m not sure how much gaslighting i can handle, or if i want to put myself through it. my poppa has dementia and lives in a nursing home where a family member works and others visit. him and i were never that close, and now, with the estrangement and his condition, it feels complicated. i don’t think he’d even recognize me.

but my mom’s mom… i did really like her.

she used to watch my younger brother on his off-days from kindergarten- when he had school every other day, and i still went every day. i’d come home on the bus and he’d show me the crafts they made, and the three of us would finish the day together before our parents got home.

my grandmother was soft. kind. she thought before she spoke, and she spoke with encouragement. she listened to my questions and came up with thoughtful, creative answers. she noticed the person i was becoming. we spent time doing things i loved. she was one of the very few adults in my life who made me feel seen, heard and respected- someone i wanted to be around, climb on, talk to.

whenever i thought about her, i missed her.

and i always wondered: if it wasn’t do to with my mom… could we have a relationship?

i didn’t know everything about why my mother stopped talking to her mother. all i had were my mother’s strong feelings and a few scattered stories that painted a picture of dysfunction. when i asked why my grandma didn’t see me anymore, my mom said, “i guess she doesn’t want to.”

but now that i am estranged from my family, there’s nothing stopping me- or her.

i looked in my phone and realized i still had a phone number and an address for her. my grandparents used to move a lot, so i didn’t know if they were still there. but i had a feeling she was close.

the day i really started thinking about calling her, i’d had a good day. the kind of day where i thought, what could make this even better? the answer was: family to share it with. and i thought, i really deserve that. it’s worth a shot.

what’s the worst that could happen?

i played it out in my head. worst case? i open the door of my heart to my grandmother… and have to slam it shut again. that would suck.

if this relationship was going to work, it had to be independent of my mother.it had to mean enthusiastic acceptance of me, with no regard for how it might stir things up with my mom. if she chose my mother’s comfort over mine, i’d know she wasn’t ready.

but if she accepted my boundaries and said yes, i was ready. i trusted myself to notice red flags and speak up if things ever felt off. and i thought- i deserve to try.

i deserve the chance of a grandma.

i took a walk, like i usually do when i have a phonecall, and i hyped myself up. i rang the number in my contacts.

no answer. just a generic voicemail. it freaked me out for a second because i didn’t expect it, so i hung up.

what if it’s not her?

okay, but what if it is?

just then, a monarch butterfly flew in front of me and landed on my phone. i took that as my sign. i was like okay, i’m calling back, fine.

i rang again. back to the template voicemail. this time, i spoke.

“hey…”

i could hear an echo of my voice through the line, which through me off. i spoke slowly.

“… i’m looking for (grandma’s name), its your granddaughter, paige…”

suddenly, someone picked up the line with a gasp.

“PAIGE?! paige?! is that you? is it really you?!”

we talked for hours. i cried a lot. she was more than happy with my proposition- and so grateful i’d called.

we’ve talked a few times since, and we made plans to see each other soon.

---

reflecting

she apologized.
i’ve never heard a family member self-reflect like that. she told me she was nervous i wouldn’t like her, and that she doesn’t deserve the chance to know me.

and i thought: that’s exactly why i know this could be something good.

i told her, “grandma, i have no expectations. i come into this with love and curiosity. the only thing i expect is mutual respect for how we make each other feel.”

i feel like i found where i came from. i found someone like me in my family. someone who loves and misses me. and i’m so excited to get to know her and build something real.

to be honest, it’s kind of the most important relationship in my life right now. and i am so happy my life has come to a point where i can have a relationship with her.