Margaret Rossiter Column: A fortnight of fun with our beautiful great-granddaughter

When news reached us that we were about to have a two-week visit from a two-year-old great-granddaughter, it was greeted with more than a passing anxiety. Yes, it would be a great pleasure, and, yes, it would be a great privilege to have reached that status in a long life, but it raised the urgent question: Was old fogey great-grandparents’ old fogey house child-friendly? A quick recce of the kitchen, a favourite place for any child in which to explore her world, proved that it was not.
The blood pressure tablets, kept close to the sugar bowl on the lower shelves, had to be moved to the upper shelves of the press. Ditto the glass tumblers and the various jars and bottles of sticky foods and liquids, had to find a less accessible home. And so it went on, until we realised that an exploring child deserved to find something interesting behind the closed doors which she could reach and open. The potentially “dangerous stuff” had to be replaced by empty jars with screw caps which she could unscrew, and with boxes of this and that which she could handle and examine and discard, all within her attention-span of two minutes.
The last time we had met Alma Mary was at her Christening in Germany. She is the daughter of eldest granddaughter and her husband. She was then a sweet baby dressed in white. Now she has started the journey of finding out what life is all about. It is said that we, humans, learn more within the first five years than we do during the remainder of our lives. We come with limbs that function but we have to learn how to use them. We come, too, with a voice that projects but we have to learn language.
During the two years since we last met great-granddaughter she has grown into a lively little girl; a mop of dark curls, sweet smiley face, very very bright, very intelligent, very beautiful, was the conclusion of this great-gran, but then I would say that - wouldn’t I? So allow me the indulgence!
One cannot even imagine the sort of world which she will inherit. The extraordinary developments in invention, discovery, technology, medicine, communication, are beyond speculation. Will they dramatically change the circumstances in which humankind will live? Or will her world be dominated by the nightmares of climate change now forecast by the experts? Whatever these future actualities may be, there is no time to think about them each morning after breakfast when her mother has to have a shower and a quiet cup of tea (of such small things are young mother’s luxuries composed!). I take Alma Mary for her morning walk, exploring her world. And her world just then is our small street. And a fascinating street it is if you are just two.
We first meet the disdainful tomcat, its tail held arrogantly curled over its back. Tomcat and I do not like each other. He threatens the birds at the bird-table. He, of course, ignores little girl’s greeting of “puss-puss.” But we find a friendly diversion. The county council now takes such good care of our street that there is not a decent single pothole left in which to splash, but we do find a small area from which the recent rain hasn’t drained, an ideal place to jump and laugh and gets boots and pants wet.
Next we try to open entrance-gate to neighbour’s house which would be explored without invitation, but she is not yet tall enough to reach lock and anyway Timmy is anticipating our visit and is already barking a welcome from behind his well-protected gate. Timmy is the local dog, a small friendly terrier who greets us with small jumps and back-rolls and friendly barking. But there are still some interesting things to experience - the leaves falling from the trees which we try to catch as they float in a gentle breeze, and the local crows have to be “cawed-at” before we finally and slowly reach home again. By then this great-gran had to have a restorative cup of coffee, and great-grandfather and great-granddaughter looked at, and talked about, the pictures in storybooks.
At home in Germany, Alma Mary, who lives in a high-rise apartment, goes to a State Nursery at 7.30am every morning and is collected again at 4.30pm. Her parents go to their full-time jobs. They hope to buy a house and, like their contemporaries in Ireland, this can only ultimately be done by an input of two salaries.
Why is all this baby-talk coming into this column this week? Well, it seemed to me that the most important function which we, adults, can contribute to our fellow humans in life is the rearing of the young; helping them to become good citizens of the world they will inhabit.
Child-rearing and educating is one of the most demanding functions which one can do, absorbing, energy-consuming, compelling and which is never fully acknowledged or appreciated, and although there are now the “new men” who participate, much of it is still done by women.
Alma Mary has now returned to her home. We parted with much hugging and kissing and bye-byeing, and indeed with regret. But, there was, too, a smidgen of relief, as old fogey great-grandparents told each other that their old fogey house would now return to a place where the blood pressure tablets could be found again beside the sugar bowl and you didn’t have to go on a safari in search of the aspirin.

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