I have a small toddler who is obsessed with his grandma. From the moment he wakes up he’s trying to FaceTime her, when we leave our house he pulls us in the direction of hers, if we ask him a question he answers with her name. When yesterday I told her about this, the high, ringing pitch of his affection, she said, “Bit creepy?” then settled back down with him beside the radiator to learn more about Meg and Mog’s eggs.
One unexpected joy of having children has been watching both of them form deep and marvellous relationships with their two grandmothers, finding there in the cashmere warmth of their company not just comfort or chocolate, but a level of understanding often lacking in their parents. Which is why it didn’t surprise me to read that the first study to examine grandmothers’ brain function suggested they may be more emotionally connected to their grandchildren than to us, their own children.
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