Becoming a Parent Again : At an Age They Least Expect It, More Grandparents Are Rearing Young Children

It was just before Easter, and the voice of the 9-year-old boy rang out in the semi-darkness of the Long Beach apartment bedroom:

“My mother’s never going to get well, is she?”

The boy was lying on his favorite sleeping place, a pad on the floor near the bed of his grandmother, Patricia Phelps, 75.

“No, honey, she’s not,” the woman in the bed said. “And we have to accept that.”

She and her grandson had just said their prayers together, and had bade each other good night, when the nocturnal conversation began.

“And my father can’t take me back either,” the boy continued, with resignation.

“No, not as long as he’s with the other woman,” she replied.

There was a pause.

“But I’ve got you, Grandma?” came the hopeful young voice.

“Yes, you do, honey,” she assured him.

At an age when they least expect it, when they had other plans on how to spend their sunset years, an increasing number of grandparents are finding themselves being recycled, finding themselves again rearing young children.

“They don’t have the patience, the stamina, the energy they had when they were younger,” Sylvie de Toledo said. “But they are all committed to raising these children regardless of how difficult the struggle. They love the children too dearly. And sometimes they may feel some guilt as to how their own child turned out.”

De Toledo is a licensed clinical social worker at the Psychiatric Clinic for Youth, a nonprofit clinic in Long Beach. Last year, partly because of what she had observed there, partly as a result of personal experience, and partly as a result of an informal survey--she formed a therapy support group--Grandparents as Parents.

The group has grown to the point where about 15 such grandparents--so far all grandmothers--participate for two hours each Monday, and as many as 15 more show up each Thursday. The number on any given day varies because of illnesses, work schedules and lack of transportation.

Although no grandfathers belong at present, thought is being given to including them. The grandmothers range in age from the early 40s to the late 70s. The majority of the clinic clients are charged on a sliding scale based on their income. There is a modest fee for grandparents whose grandchildren aren’t seen at the clinic, as is true in some cases.

A Growing Need

Such is the significance of what appears to be an increasing trend in the United States, said De Toledo, 33, that she feels the need to expand the service to other areas of Southern California, if only to consult with those interested. Many grandparents now shoulder this unexpected burden, but belong to no support group.

There are many reasons for this surprise responsibility upon seniors: death, neglect, abandonment, involvement with drugs and/or alcohol, incarceration, physical and/or sexual abuse, mental illness.

“The usual alternative for the kids is foster homes, and none of the grandparents wants that,” De Toledo said.

“The often-sudden situation is occurring in all ethnic groups and at all socioeconomic levels.”

Social workers say they detect a trend, when court action is involved, toward placement of young children with grandparents, to keep things in the family.

According to Martin O’Connell, chief of the Fertility Statistics Branch of the U.S. Bureau of the Census in Suitland, Md., statistics show that as of March, 1986, the nation had 63 million family households. An estimated 1.7 million of those households contained people 55 or older who were possibly living with their grandchildren.

The stress of the usually unforeseen development on the seniors isn’t just emotional and mental. “The majority have worked all their lives and have saved for their retirements,” De Toledo said. “Now they are ending up having to use this money for food, clothes, shelter, medical bills and so forth for the children.”

Another factor which sometimes is brought up at the therapy support sessions is that these substitute parents “feel cheated out of the traditional role of being doting grandparents. And the children, for their part, are deprived of having doting grandparents. The word grand has been taken out of the experience.

“Most of the women would prefer being grandmothers, rather than being mothers again. Of concern to them is the fact that things have changed from the time when they raised their own children, or even when they themselves were children.”

The Los Angeles County Department of Children’s Services, which aids abused and neglected children, offered numbers that certainly suggest a trend.

“The department’s focus has always been on placing children in the home of relatives,” said Ray LaMotte, director of news media. “Indeed, a state law requires that a relative be the first choice of placement of children, if the parents are unable to care for them for whatever reason.”

LaMotte said that in July, 1987, the number of children placed in out-of-home care with relatives totaled 9,846. Since then, the monthly figure has increased steadily to 10,995 in February, 1988.

“The type of relative isn’t specified,” she said, “but we know that the majority are grandparents.”

Children at the vortex of this unreal whirlwind, she added, can find themselves resentful, feeling guilt, sometimes insecure, grasping at hope--at a tender age when the taste should be sweet in the only childhood they will ever have.

“Sometimes they feel resentful because the person or persons taking care of them is so much older than the parents of other kids,” De Toledo said. “For example, maybe they don’t get taken to the park to play ball.”

The guilt feelings, she went on, sometimes come into the picture when the youngster believes that if he or she had somehow been “a better child,” the parent or parents would still be with them. “Some feel that it is their fault, and that they are to blame for their present situation,” the therapy support group founder said.

Then there is insecurity. “Kids are perceptive. They know. They feel insecure when the grandparent taking take of them becomes sick,” De Toledo said. “What runs through their minds is: If this grandparent leaves me through death, who will take care of me? This time there might not be another grandmother or grandfather. It’s a scary thought for a kid.

“They become very attached to the grandparent taking care of them. A lot of times the first thing such a child does in the morning is check on the physical presence of that person, to make sure they haven’t left during the night.”

With everything else, though, there always is hope. “They never give up the fantasy, the hope, that their real parents will change and some day come back and take care of them,” the social worker said. “Although they love their grandparents, and even if they had been mistreated earlier, there is that tight bond that never vanishes.”

“The minute my married daughter walked through my door, I could see that her days were numbered,” Sonya Jarred tearfully recalled. “She had come out from Wisconsin with her four children, leaving behind a husband who drank, and she said she was sick.”

That was in July, 1986. The elder Jarred, a nursing assistant, took the young woman to an Orange County hospital, where she was diagnosed for cancer of the cervix. In February, 1987, at age 28, she died.

Two of her children had been placed in a foster home here, the other two were staying with the grandmother. The next month, Jarred went to court and got custody of all four. “Two months later my best friend died,” she said. “The next month my husband left me.”

And that same month, now on her own and with four young children to care for, her car gave out. Since then, her limited budget has forced her to travel by bus.

“I have a 10-year-old boy, a 9-year-old girl, an 8-year-old boy and a 4-year-old boy. I had to give up working because all my time has been consumed with my grandchildren,” the 52-year-old Jarred said.

The five of them live in a one-bedroom duplex in Long Beach. “There is hardly any privacy. The oldest boy likes to sleep in the closet with the door open. The other three kids sleep in our bedroom. In the mornings, there is a line outside the bathroom.”

The grandmother makes do on the $753 she receives monthly as Aid to Families With Dependent Children. “Believe me, we cut corners,” she said. “There are never enough vegetables or fruit in the refrigerator. The clothes are either hand-me-downs or something from a thrift shop.

Turkey and Toys at Christmas

“At Christmas, there sure wasn’t much money, but the Eagles brought us a turkey and some canned food, and an outfit of clothing for each of the children. Two of the county social workers brought toys for the kids.

“None of them has ever been to Disneyland or Knott’s Berry Farm. We can only go to things that are free. We went to the Cinco de Mayo celebration in Silverado Park, and the kids had faces painted on them by clowns. Sometimes I’m asked to play cards with them, or color with them, but there is so little time.”

Jarred tries her best to cope with her new lot in life, but said: “I feel I’m going backward instead of forward. I don’t know where I get the energy from anymore. I have another daughter in Westminster who has two children. One day I just had to get away from it all, and I went to a movie alone, and my two other grandchildren baby-sat the other four.

“On my way back on the bus, I felt as if I was a little kid who had a curfew and had to be home by a certain time. But I realized I had to face reality again.”

A life, it would seem, in which the rewards come in small measures, such as when her 4-year-old pipes up: “Grandma, you’re cute!”

Although many of these special guardians are grandmothers, grandfathers also figure into the situation.

“It’s a whole different thing from when we raised our own children,” said Albert Johnson, 66, of Anaheim. He and his wife, Mary Etta , 65, have taken over the rearing of their grandchildren, a 6-year-old girl and a 5-year-old boy. Mary Etta Johnson said that, because of the parents’ personal problems, she and her husband had been taking care of the children for a year, and in December, 1986, got court guardianship of them.

“There is so much age difference now,” Albert Johnson said. “We hadn’t had children in our home for five years, and suddenly they are here almost 24 hours a day. It’s a lot different story than when they were just grandchildren who came over to visit for a few hours.”

He and his wife had three children of their own. “When you are younger you can cope with kids a lot more,” Albert Johnson said.

“These children are typical live wires,” Mary Etta Johnson said. “They’re very hyper, but they’re good little kids. They sure put us through our paces.

“When our kids were little, my husband was in the work force, and he wasn’t around the children all day. Now that he is retired, he is here and they are under our noses constantly. I think this is a little harder for him to take.”

Yes, he said, in a way he resents his new role in life:

“We had just learned to play golf, and now my wife can join me only about twice a year. . . . And we had planned a trip to New England. But it won’t be now, maybe a little later with the kids.”

Yet, he added, “I don’t think I could live with it if they went to somebody else.”

And how does a child in such a situation feel?

“There are good things about it,” said one boy, whose mother committed suicide five years ago and whose father isn’t around. The 13-year-old, who isn’t a client of the clinic , lives with his maternal grandparents, 58 and 59.

“When you are with your grandparents, you are closer to your family,” the boy said. “If you were with foster parents, that wouldn’t be the case.”

However, he had something else on his mind, and spoke honestly of it: “Sometimes I think I’d rather be brought up by regular parents, because grandparents have less patience and are overprotective.

“They want everything done as perfect as possible. My room is a little bit of a mess, but nothing hangs out of the dresser. But my grandpa walks in and sees something on the floor, and tells me: ‘Pick that up.’ ”

Words that might sound familiar in more than one family. But in these arrangements, every member is trying hard--sometimes not without occasional difficulty--to struggle with something nobody had expected.

The 13-year-old gets an allowance of $7 a week, which he said he spends mostly on movies and baseball cards. “A few years ago, when I went to a day camp, they gave us each a baseball card at the end of the day. But I didn’t know baseball then, and I made the mistake of throwing away a Don Mattingly rookie card.”

Now he not only buys the cards (he said he has hundreds), but he saves them. And occasionally his uncle takes him to Dodger Stadium. With luck, he may get to watch his favorite player, Darryl Strawberry of the Mets.

On weekends, he said, his grandparents sometimes treat him to a meal out. He addresses them as “Grandpa” and “Nonna.”

As with all children, life seems to be a mixed bag. “Grandparents don’t understand what it’s like being a kid,” he said. “They think kids should be mature like adults.”

He thought a moment, though, and concluded: “But I can’t complain. I’ve got a good life.”

Norman Rockwell would never have painted this one. Oh, there was a grandmother on hand. Eleven of them, in fact. But they were, for the most part, angry.

Inside a neon-lit conference room, seated on four couches facing each other, they were at the Psychiatric Clinic for Youth, attending their weekly therapy support session of Grandparents As Parents.

De Toledo, the group founder, listened intently as 53-year-old Bobbie Brantley of Long Beach, who is caring for a 4-year-old granddaughter, explained about her situation:

“You give up your hopes and dreams--even of just going back to school, or just going walking.”

Brantley had raised six of her own “and I looked for the day when all of them would be gone.”

But, she told the group, while a daughter was being measured for her high school prom dress, the fitter noticed that the girl “was expanding--something is wrong.” The girl was pregnant.

“I had had about two months without anyone being in the house,” Brantley said. “I had changed everything around. Now I had to change things again. I had to get diapers, a baby bed, baby food, a stroller. All of that had been dumped. I hadn’t planned on raising anymore.

“The child calls me ‘Big Mom.’ My other grandchildren call me that.”

Alta Edwards, 53, of Long Beach, who is caring for three grandchildren--an 11-year-old boy, a 7-year-old girl and a 7-year-old boy, talked about the challenge of rearing youngsters in a drug-poisoned society:

“My 7-year-old grandson knows. Hey, this kid knows whether or not they’re smoking dope. He knows when they’re selling it. He says, ‘Mom, that car out there, they just passed some dope back and forth.’ ”

V’Ann Corliss, 55, of South Gate had been a single parent who raised four children by herself:

“Five years ago, when the last one was grown and left, I said, ‘Hallelujah’--it was tough, but we made it and it’s over.”

A Grandchild’s Plea

Then, about 18 months ago, she said, the parents of her grandson began having problems. “So he comes to my house and asks: ‘Grandma, can I live with you?’ ”

The boy, now 8, had been a truant. The grandmother informed the school that he was now living with her, that she wanted to do what needed to be done, and she asked the staff to work with her.

The result? “He’s doing extremely well at school now,” Corliss said. “Every day after school his No. 1 priority is to wash his hands, get a drink (iced tea, Coke or milk), sit at the kitchen table and do his homework--mostly with me at his side.”

Dora Wofford, 65, of Long Beach, who is rearing granddaughters ages 10 and 13, was among those who expressed resentment at filling the role of mother again:

“I had more fun as a grandmother. Now that they are both with me full time, I can’t go anywhere.”

The girls, Wofford said, had different fathers, both of whom aren’t around, and the mother developed problems.

How does the grandmother cope? “I don’t,” she replied.

Three years ago, Coqueece King, now 51 and a Long Beach resident, took over the rearing of the now-13-year-old daughter of her son, who had died. “Initially, I was angry and she was angry. . . . I think she has settled in, and I have accepted that I couldn’t give her up, because I love her. She is like an extension of my son.”

The girl’s father died in 1981--but the memories haven’t died. “She can’t handle a picture of him in her bedroom. She’ll turn it over,” the grandmother said. “And when she is ready to talk about him, it is still with grief overtones--why did he have to die?”

Everyone in the clinic conference room was anxious to speak. At one of the many points at which the sacrifices were being discussed, Edwards mentioned the necessity of giving up privacy, freedom, mobility.

“And,” Sharon Scott said, “our sanity.”

Born With an Addiction

Scott, 40, who lives in Long Beach, cares for two grandsons, 3 and 7. “My 3-year-old was born with heroin in his body,” she said sadly.

“How do I cope? Just barely. I worry a lot that I’m not doing right by them.” Always as parents, we think we can do better. I’m real concerned that they turn out to be better than their mother.”

A sampling of some other comments:

Willella Price, 71, of Long Beach, rearing a 12-year-old granddaughter: “She comes and says, ‘I need help with this homework.’ I look at it and say, ‘I don’t know anything about this.’ ”

Hazel Reece, 55, of Long Beach, rearing two girls, 4 and 8: “I am a nurse’s aide, and I work from 2:30 to 11 p.m. It seems that I no sooner drop off to sleep, and it’s time to get up and get (the older one) off to school.”

Marilyn Thompson, 54, of Lakewood, in whose home lives a 16-year-old grandson: “Last night my husband and him almost got into a fight over his language. I love him, though.”

Wofford perhaps summed up what was on the minds of all the assembled grandmothers:

“You want to reach out to the children, but you don’t always know how.”

There are some things that cannot be explained. You cannot explain blue to a blind person. And you cannot explain the unlikely human chemistry between a 9-year-old boy and 75-year-old Patricia Phelps.

“I am a great-grandmother, and I’ve raised kids all my life,” she said. “I had four daughters of my own. Now I get to cook again. And he never stops eating.”

The mother of the child? She is haunted in a way that only demons would understand, Phelps indicated.

“I’ve been taking care my grandson for about 1 1/2 years now,” Phelps said. “It’s a change from daughters. He is more headstrong and aggressive.”

She is part of the Monday group, but the child isn’t being seen at the clinic. She is going it on her own (with help from other daughters), because her husband of 47 years was killed in an auto accident five years ago.

Obviously a generations gap between a child of the ‘80s and a woman whose past includes the days when she ran a knitting department in a Kansas department store.

These days, her health isn’t everything it should be: “I have arthritis and I wear a back brace. And my left leg doesn’t always do what I tell it to do. About six weeks ago I tried to turn in the bathroom, I fell and couldn’t get up. I called out. My grandson was asleep, but he awakened, and pulled and pulled on my arm until I was able to grab the wash basin.

“It’s sometimes rough, but I could never let him go to a foster home. I had other plans for my life, but I think God gives us things to do.”