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It’s only been going on five years since I moved from southern California to here (Sacramento) .
But in these five years I have grown.

I have learned what it takes to be a real grandmother, to love without bias. To believe in hope and faith.
My daughter and her family.  


I have taken care of them for the past five years. They are leaving California.
Because of the crisis in the recent budget, job security has fallen out of the bottom.
Not just for them, but for millions here in California.

I have helped raise my three grandchildren. I watched them grow in my daughter’s womb. Watched them.
The twins, there was two of them from the beginning. My grandson was barley two when I moved here.
I got a job got a chance to regain my family’s trust after so many years of being gone.

Now, in less then five months, poof! It’s gone.
My daughter’s job of ten years is ending. Her American dream has been destroyed.
I have decided not to move with them to Arkansas, yet, I have regrets.
My job will end as soon as the final pink slip is delivered.
Which could be at any moment.
I have decided to stay here in California. Besides all the ups and downs of being the live-in granny.
Taken less pay then a cow out to pasture, stirred through all the reasons why .
In the end I will regret it. I will miss seeing my three grandchildren each and every morning for the last
five years. Or four for the twins, they are my life, and my daughter even in her darkest moments.
I still will miss seeing her each and every day for the five years that I have been here each and every day.

Miss the moments of when I wake up my sleepyheads, for we have to take brother to school.
And my grandson, getting him dressed and brushed and off to school.
I’ll miss the moments that make all this worth being here.

I am going to go live with my dad until I get a new job and get back on my feet.
Because here I never had a chance to get back on my feet.
I put my life on pause to help out my daughter for childcare.
I took all the ups and downs and then some.
But I will miss the rest of my grandchildren’s lives. I will not be present when
they start another chapter of their life. I will visit as much as my new life will allow.
No, I’ll be here in California trying to make a life for myself.
I just heard my two twin granddaughters calling for me “Grandma, Grandma,” I go to see what they want.
They are lying in their twin beds in their purple and pink room. They need the music to play again.
SpongeBob square pants. I sing the song with them and push the play button.




This is what I am going to miss. Them asking me, “Grandma, play the movie.”
I could go with them but I’d have to find a place to live in Arkansas as the house they have only
has a few rooms. I’d have to have enough money to move myself.
I will miss dinnertime when they say the grace/bless the food.
I will miss them in the morning when I wake up their sleepy heads.
I will miss being there for everything..
How do I explain to them?
How do I tell them?
I may not recover from all of this.
And after a few months, maybe a year. I’ll be there. With them …
Because I will miss them way too much to get my own life.
What does that say for me?
In the beginning I will be so mad that this stupid California has let my family down.
That my daughter’s job of ten years working for the state has taken away my family.
My grandchildren who I have been with from the time the twins where born.
My grandson, who is in first grade, is learning to read; what a concept, he loves books.
Loves to work out the sounds for each word, I will miss that: his homework.
In the end when this all happens I will cry a million tears …

The End

 

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