Volunteers Get 2nd Chance to Be ‘Grammies’ : Philanthropies: Residents of a Torrance retirement community visit small children whose mothers are in an alcohol- and drug-recovery center.

As she waits for the bus that will carry her from her Torrance retirement community to the alcohol- and drug-rehabilitation home she visits every Tuesday, 88-year-old Violet Harper can hardly contain her excitement.

“We’re going to Patterns to play with our babies,” she says with a clasp of her hands. “Today, we get to be grammies again.”

Harper, a retired school-cafeteria supervisor, and three other elderly women begin boarding the minivan that will take them to their destination in Hawthorne when a woman steadying herself with a cane decides she too would like to join the group.

“If she loves babies, she’ll just have the time of her life,” says Harper, matriarch of a brood of her own that includes four grandchildren and two great-grandchildren, the youngest of whom is in preschool.

Harper’s words are no understatement to the women who spend their Tuesday mornings holding, feeding and cuddling children whose mothers are recovering from alcohol and drug addictions.

For nearly three years, a group of residents from Pacific Inn Retirement Community--most of them widows with grandchildren who have long since grown up--have made a weekly journey to Patterns, a private, nonprofit program that provides long-term housing, counseling and vocational rehabilitation for alcohol- and drug-addicted mothers.

The visits are coordinated by Pacific Inn program director Leslie Dirckx, who had heard about a similar program in Washington state in which seniors spend time with babies born addicted to drugs.

“The whole idea was that our seniors have a need to be needed, while the children (at Patterns) need to be loved and hugged,” Dirckx said. “So we thought, ‘Wouldn’t this be a great match?’ ”

Patterns program director Roe Piccoli welcomed the offer.

“So often, the women here are stigmatized for being alcoholic addicts,” Piccoli said. “But the seniors who come here are just as nice as they can be. They’re open and non-judgmental. . . . The women really appreciate that.”

The children benefit from the interaction with the women because “they get a lot of individualized attention,” Piccoli added. “And it gives the moms a break and shows them that other people care about them and their kids.”

On the day of Harper’s visit, 11 mothers and nine children were living at Patterns, a 5-year-old county-funded recovery home operated by Behavioral Health Services Inc., which runs 21 chemical-dependency programs throughout Southern California. Each mother is allowed to have up to three children stay with her at the center, but all must be 10 or younger. School-age children attend a local elementary school.

Most of the mothers admitted to the program spend between six months and a year in residence. Although Patterns operates on a sliding-fee basis, mothers who receive general relief or Aid to Families with Dependent Children can pay for their room and board by simply turning over their checks to the agency. Many women are referred to the program by the county Department of Children’s Services.

In the past couple of years, Pacific Inn residents have made Patterns a favored charity. One woman knitted five child-sized sweaters and caps last Christmas. And a penny collection in the lobby has netted enough money to purchase rocking chairs and toys for the center.

When their van pulls into the parking lot of the facility, a neat, low-lying building on El Segundo Boulevard, the grandmothers know exactly what to do. They quickly enter and head straight for a kitchenette in the back, where a group of young children are being fed a midmorning snack of milk and graham crackers.

Marjorie Price, 74, takes a seat beside 1-year-old Tyishia Johnson, whose face is smeared with crackers. The retired hairdresser and masseuse, whose youngest grandchild is a teen-ager, gazes at Tyishia for several minutes before gently taking her hand. Tyishia’s mother, Darlene Johnson, 34, smiles and leaves the two alone.

Johnson, who is a recovering alcoholic, has been at Patterns for five months. The former electronics assembly worker said she is starting to piece together what it was about her family background that led her to abuse alcohol.

“Growing up in a dysfunctional family, no one was there to teach me anything,” she said. But she said she has been learning how to cope without a chemical crutch.

“I’m doing real good,” Johnson said. “I’m real proud of myself that I’ve come this far. I’m learning to find out things about myself.”

Johnson, who hopes to study cosmetology when she leaves the program, said she looks forward to the elderly women’s Tuesday visits.

“I think it’s good to have them here,” Johnson said. “It gives the ladies something to do, to keep themselves occupied. And I love having her come in and take (Tyishia) off my hands for a few minutes. It gives me a break and gives the kids some time to know other people.”

At 10:30 a.m., Johnson and several other mothers who attend a morning exercise class bring their children to a colorful playroom that is generously stocked with toys, stuffed animals and children’s books. The women from Pacific Inn each take a seat in chairs arranged in a circle around the room and patiently wait for a baby to cuddle.

Renita Reid, who enrolled at Patterns recently, hands her 8-month-old daughter, Destiny, to Harper, who claps her hands together in delight.

“Isn’t she pretty,” croons Harper, whose upswept white hair and lilting voice have earned her the nickname Mother Goose. “She’s just a doll. She has earrings and everything. And she has curly hair, just as curly as it could be.”

Price, meanwhile, scoops up Tyishia, whom she befriended in the kitchenette, and settles back into a rocking chair as the child nuzzles her head into her arms.

“You’re just a little ol’ sweetie pie, aren’t you, darling?” Price coos as she rocks Tyishia in her lap.

Frances Forrester, 86, quietly waits for her turn with a child when 16-month-old Francisco Bustamante toddles over. The child’s face lights up as Forrester bounces a teddy bear on her lap. For the next hour, Francisco clings to the leg of Forrester’s pants. Eventually, she hoists him onto her lap, where he falls asleep clutching the teddy bear.

“He came to me last week and I held him on my lap, so he came to me this time because he feels that I’m his friend,” explained Forrester, a former teacher and preschool director whose five grandchildren and six great-grandchildren are scattered throughout California.

Last month, Forrester and the other women were worried because Francisco was not yet walking. But in the past couple of weeks, the child has begun to take some tentative steps, and he appears to be thriving.

Francisco’s mother, Debra Bustamante, 35, said her son’s progress can be attributed in part to the elderly women’s visits. She said she is glad Francisco has a chance to spend time with them because his own grandmother died recently.

“It’s good for him to be exposed to that grandmother figure,” said Bustamante, who enrolled in the program last month with alcohol and drug problems. “(The women) always say how much they like coming, so it makes me feel good knowing my child can have a part in making their lives happy.”

Bustamante said she has been learning how to be a responsible mother. “I didn’t know how to live without medicating my feelings,” Bustamante said. “Here, I’m learning how to give eye messages to my son. I’m learning how to live a life.”

At 11:30 a.m., about an hour and a half after the women arrived, Dirckx comes to the playroom to gather the seniors for the trip back.

“Can we take them home with us?” asks Alice Adams, who says she is too old to remember her age.

Reluctantly, the women prepare to leave, savoring their last moments with the children. “Goodby, sweet little baby Destiny,” Harper says as she gently squeezes the baby’s plump cheeks and heads for the door. “I love you.”

Almost as soon as the van pulls away, the women begin to reminisce about the day.

Price, whose husband died two years ago, said she sometimes fears she will get too emotionally attached to the children. As a result, she tries to pick up a different baby each week.

But, the women agreed, it isn’t easy to keep their emotions at bay.

‘It just feels like you are leaving one of your own,” Harper said, “and you miss them.”