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When My Grandmother Moved In With Me, It Saved Us Both
Sometimes the best lessons come from those who don’t know they’re teaching them
I’ve had my share of roommates. Two years ago, after just turning 30, I thought I knew where my life was headed. I had great friendships, felt good in my career, and finally had a place all to myself. Then my 88-year-old grandma moved in.
The move solved two emergencies: one, she’d crashed her car without remembering how or why, and had to stop driving; two, she lived with her ex-husband (my grandfather) whose constant emotional abuse made her hide in her bedroom. Because of her situation, my mom, my brothers, and I showed up with a U-Haul, packed her things, and whisked her away to a new life in California with me.
It didn’t take long for her to adjust to the temperate climate, the palm trees, and the view of the Santa Monica mountains outside her new bedroom window. Other things, however, took more time to get used to. And not just for her.
As I took on the responsibility of the day-to-day health and safety of an 88-year-old woman, I dove — somewhat unknowingly — into a crash course of life lessons that ended up giving me as much security as my second bedroom gave to her. From things she’d say, how she’d act, what her days looked like—my…
