My older brother recently became a grandpa to twin boys. It has me thinking a lot about our grandparents’ influence on our lives and how impactful those relationships were in how we raised our children.
Specific generational threads continue to connect us all despite different environmental variables.
My brother and I were extremely fortunate to have known six great-grandparents. The three on my dad’s side immigrated from Portugal and strictly spoke Portuguese, a fact that never stopped us from interacting and showing love for each other. My mom’s side immigrated from Sweden, and my great-grandma on her side lived to be 100 years old.
Conversely, my two children knew only two of their great-grandparents, and yet I hope they learn how intrinsically they are sewn together with generational threads.
Farming
Both sides of my family farmed. My great-grandparents in Portugal had a large farm, and once they immigrated to the United States, they had a massive garden (in a city) that was used to feed many Portuguese men staying in a work-boarding home. I remember being a small child and thinking the garden was this huge jungle filled with surprises.
My Swedish great-grandma and grandpa had a large farm adjoining my great-uncle’s farm in rural Minnesota. Together, they had over 500 acres of land, and it was a huge playground for me growing up and visiting in the summers.
I was the little cousin from New York who frolicked around the land and had to do little work. I made mud pies and chucked dried-up cow dung like frisbees. I picked vegetables with my great-grandma and searched for kittens sleeping in the hay barn. I fished with my grandpa, and our family would have huge fish fries.
The smells of the farm relax me and keep me connected to nature. It was the best playground a child could have and probably one of the reasons I raised my kids to explore the world around them. Being surrounded by farmers showed me what hard work was all about. If you know a farmer, you know their work ethic is tireless (even though they’re tired!). I can barely keep a small garden going or sustain my house plants, but farmers get up at the crack of dawn and work tirelessly all day to live a modest lifestyle.
This is true of both sides of my family. Incredibly hard work ethic is a thread that has been passed down matter what you do, put your best foot forward.
Food
When you appreciate where your food comes from, you grow up eating pretty clean without trying too hard. Did I lose sight of this as a teen and young adult? Sure did! Finding my way back wasn’t hard, though, because I enjoy real food.
While it was common for previous generations to always cook, this tradition has slowly declined over time. My mom always cooked for us. She grew up on that farm, and she knew and passed on fresh-grown seasonal food. On Sundays, we would go to my Portuguese grandmother and great-grandma’s house for shared family meals.
When I became a parent, I was surprised by how many other moms were ordering take-out or buying processed foods for their families. There is no judgment here. It’s fast, convenient, and fuel. It just seemed strange to me. I was happy to be done with college food and have my own apartment to cook fresh food again. So, cooking has always been important on both sides of my family.
The holidays are a time when my cousins and I try to recreate the dishes of our grandma and Titi. While only the ladies used to cook back in the day, I’m happy all the men now cook, too. I have to say some of us are getting pretty darn close to the level of deliciousness the matriarchal ladies were capable of.
We honestly are just having fun trying and talking about our grandparents with admiration. We laugh that many of our recipes omit quantities or even main ingredients, so we’ve had to pool our resources at times to replicate our cultural dishes.
Speaking of which, having different cultures to draw from when it comes to eating food has expanded our pallets and opened up further food explorations. I see this generational thread starting to surface with my college-age son. He loves his fresh fruits, veggies, and proteins and is open to trying different cultural foods. He appreciates real food and is looking forward to having an apartment at college next year so he can cook more.
Humor
My great-grandma didn’t speak English, but I can remember her laugh. She was a belly laugher, and the wrinkles on her face would all squish up when she laughed. Both sides of my family had humor. Neither side had much in the way of money but were rich in insight, love, experience, and perspective.
Work hard, but don’t take yourself too seriously. Laugh when you might want to cry. Enjoy the simple and the silly. My mom’s mom was a bit more serious but knew how to enjoy a nice cold beer after a hard day and exploit the hilariousness of life sometimes. I can still remember making sausage with my mom and grandma in my grandma’s kitchen and literally having to stop because I couldn’t see anymore because of tears of laughter clouding my eyes.
I think my kids understand this generational tie. Life is serious, but perspective is everything. Sometimes, laughter can be the best medicine, especially when injected into a grumpy teen.
Helping Others
My family taught me the importance of humanity, community, and helping others. As I mentioned, none of them had riches, but they gave of themselves. My grandpa had limited education but a mechanical brain. He could literally fix anything. I think he tinkered until he learned.
He would drop anything at any time to help someone fix their car or refrigerator, hang a light, take a look at their lawnmower, etc. He gave his time and his knowledge. My dad’s mom was the same. She was a seamstress until age 70, and many a family gathering, the doorbell would ring, and it would be a neighbor with a sewing emergency of some kind. My grandma never complained. She just took the garment, told them how long it would take her, and went into the basement to sew.
Sharing and trading food or services made their communities better. I hope my children have observed this in their upbringing and how we treat people.
I’m so thankful for the generational threads sewn through my upbringing. I love recognizing some of the traits in myself that I know have been influenced by my great-grandparents and grandparents. Seeing my children unknowingly continue their lives ingrained with the same threads warms my heart.
Now, I”‘ll get to witness my brother take on the role of grandpa and pass down some of our familial influence to his twin grandsons.
