Grandmothers always have time to talk and make you feel special.
~Catherine Pulsifer
I’d known these two women for my whole life, but I’d never seen them in the same room. Both were my grandmothers, one by blood and one by marriage. They’d married the same man — my grandfather. He’d divorced one of them and then married the other. He’d passed away four years earlier.
My two grandmothers hated one another. Even though the man they’d fought over was gone, they still despised each other. For my entire life, we’d celebrated holidays with them separately because they’d insisted on it. Even after my grandfather had died, they still refused to be in one another’s presence.
Until today.
Today, the three of us were meeting for lunch to discuss the one thing we all shared: divorce.
I was going through one, and it was positively excruciating. When Grandma-by-blood heard that my husband had left me, she’d called Grandma-by-marriage for the first time ever.
“We have to help Sarah,” she said. “She’s my granddaughter, and she’s your, well, I guess when you married my husband, she became your step-granddaughter.”
Grandma-by-marriage said, “I married her grandfather — your ex-husband — before she was even born. She’s my granddaughter, too.”
“Well, that’s all semantics,” Grandma-by-blood said. “Anyway, I’ve been through a divorce, and my husband was your second husband because you were divorced from your first husband, so we both know what she’s going through.”
“Yes, I married your ex-husband eight years after you and he split up,” Grandma-by-marriage reminded her. “Your divorce had nothing to do with me.”
“Yes, and you were married to him longer than I was anyway, but he never had any kids with you,” Grandma-by-blood said. “A real marriage produces children.”
“But he didn’t divorce me,” Grandma-by-marriage said. “We were married until the day he died. He never left me.”
“Which brings me back to the reason why I called you for the first time ever in my life,” Grandma-by-blood said. “My granddaughter needs us. Both of us.”
So we went to lunch. It was strange to see these two septuagenarians in the same room after all those years. It felt strange, especially when I remembered that they only did it because they wanted to help me.
“How are you doing, honey?” Grandma-by-blood asked, reaching for my hand.
Before I could answer, Grandma-by-marriage grabbed my other hand. “Yeah, sweetie, tell us how you’re doing,” she said.
“I’m all right, I guess,” I said. “It’s hard. Divorce sucks.”
“Oh, you’re right about that,” Grandma-by-blood said. “When your grandfather and I split up — you know, so he could marry her,” she nodded at Grandma-by-marriage and continued, “I felt like my heart was ripping out of my chest.”
“He did not divorce you to marry me,” Grandma-by-marriage snapped. “I didn’t even know him then.” She shook her head, suddenly seeming to remember that she was supposed to be helping me. She patted my hand. “So does it feel like your heart is ripping out of your chest?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, kind of. I have good days and bad days.”
“What kind of day is today?” Grandma-by-blood asked. Before I could answer, she said, “I’d say it’s an historic one. You know, because me and her,” she nodded at Grandma-by-marriage again, “are here together in one place just for you because we love you, and you need us.”
“I sure appreciate that,” I said. “It means a lot to me.” “I would think so,” Grandma-by-blood said. “Because me and her,” another nod, “haven’t always gotten along that well.”
“Yes, I think my mom might have mentioned that once or twice,” I said.
“Well, you know, it’s on account of your grandfather,” Grandma-by-blood said. “He caused a rift in the family when he divorced me to marry her.” Again, she nodded at Grandma-by-marriage.
Before Grandma-by-marriage could jump in, I jumped up, thankful that the restaurant had a buffet. “I’m going to get some food now,” I said.
As I ate, my two grandmas continued to pretend to talk about me, all while taking jabs at each other. Grandma-by-blood nodded at Grandma-by-marriage about fifty more times, I think to avoid saying Grandma-by-marriage’s actual name. Grandma-by-marriage defended herself and her relationship with my grandfather in the calmest possible way, gritting her dentures until I feared they would grind into dust.
When Grandma-by-blood asked me if I thought my husband was seeing another woman — while nodding like a bobblehead at Grandma-by-marriage — I knew I’d had all I could take of their wise counsel.
I grabbed their hands and said, “This has been lovely. I appreciate you putting aside your differences on my behalf.”
Grandma-by-blood squeezed my hand. “It wasn’t so hard. I’m not sure why we waited so long.” She looked at Grandma-by-marriage and smiled tentatively. “Do you want to do Christmas together this year?”
Grandma-by-marriage nodded. “I think that would be wonderful for the kids.”
“Well, they’re my kids,” Grandma-by-blood said. “They’re only your step-kids.”
I sighed. “Grandma, I speak for my mother, her siblings, and all of your grandchildren when I say that we belong to both of you. And Christmas as a family sounds terrific.”
And, oddly enough, it was terrific. As the years went on, my two grandmas actually became friends, and their problems in the past were finally forgotten.
Most of the time, when a couple gets divorced, it tears apart a family. But my divorce brought together two of the most amazing women I’ve ever known.
~Sarah Foster
