The Snitch
From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Grandmothers
By Kay Conner Pliszka

Our grandchildren accept us for ourselves, without rebuke or effort to change us, as no one in our entire lives has ever done, not our parents, siblings, spouses, friends — and hardly ever our own grown children.
~Ruth Goode

My son and his family live in Australia, which makes being a grandma quite challenging. When the children were little, my husband and I were teachers and didn’t have enough money to visit the kids very often. But every two years during our summer break I would fly to Sydney on the cheapest airfare available. Sometimes that meant thirty hours of flight with numerous stops and long layovers. But I didn’t care. Whatever it took for me to be with my son, my Australian daughter-in-law and beautiful grandchildren was okay with me.

I sent lots of cards and called on holidays when the price was not excessive. It was hard because I so wanted to be a real grandma — able to bake cookies for the kids, tell them stories, answer their questions and be nearby for hugs and kisses. (Keep reading)