Revealed! The Truth About Being a Long-Distance Grandparent

Are you an older woman seeking new friends and connections? Then join our Ethel Circle, a closed Facebook group through which women are meeting up in person. It's very special.


What’s good about getting old? Grandchildren! What’s also very good? For me, long distance.

I am 61, not 31. I just got back from a 10-day vacation in the Caribbean with my cherubic 18-month-old granddaughter Ava and her parents. It was magical. Every morning, Ava would waddle towards me at full speed, sometimes falling tummy first on the way, saying "Eyeie, Eyeie!!" (her version of Ellie, my preferred grandma moniker), and give me a huge hug.

If I was lucky, I might get a kiss too, like a butterfly brushing across my cheek. Ava lives in London, and I live in Connecticut. According to a survey published by AARP in 2019, over half of all American families are faced with distances of over 200 miles between grandparents and at least one grandchild. Since Ava was born, I’m lucky enough to have gotten to visit every few months. I also FaceTime every weekend.

I love playing with Ava for 90 minutes maximum. Then I kind of wilt. I’m ready for a breather to possibly read my book, sunbathe or stare at the sea, all things I could do as a mother of adult children without grandchildren. Toddlers have a sixth sense. They know when you’re trying to relax.

Don’t get me wrong, Ava is my new love. After our daily hug, I’d take her hand and we’d go on adventures. We’d look for turtles, play peekaboo, throw my sneakers in the pool (her not me), sit on my lap with a book for about 30 seconds and then watch the clothes in the dryer go round and round.

Sometimes I’d catch myself looking at my watch wondering if we were getting close to lunchtime and then naptime, only to see that it was 10 a.m. After my kids grew up, I thought I was done with puzzles that my pug dog could do or riding the merry-go-round, round and round, and staggering dizzily away.

But when you have a grandchild, you realize, silly you, that you aren’t done with anything. You’re only just getting started. Again, I adore my granddaughter. When her mom, my daughter, sends me videos of Ava saying new words — breakfast, pancake, apple (Ava is a foodie) — I re-watch them in double digits. Ava in her tutu, Ava kicking a ball. It never gets old.

I’m clearly conflicted. From a distance, I can’t get enough of Ava. At close range, I need frequent breaks.

Being a long-distance granny means that when you leave, you will get to have cherished me-time any time. So, too, will you return home and gaze longingly at those videos of Ava saying pancake. It’s both a blessing and a curse. When I’m near Ava, I want to give her my complete attention, making up for the months we are apart.

By the end of these fabulous and exhausting visits, I haven’t read a single book, have barely looked at my emails and have forgotten about social media altogether. When I hear her screaming for me, I drop whatever else I may be doing, knowing that the sight of me will silence those cries in a nanosecond.

Talk about a granny power trip!

Though, admittedly, from time to time, I have felt jealous of my friends who have grandkids around the corner, or at least a short car ride away. Then at lunch one day, a friend of mine told me how she felt used by her son and daughter-in-law who regularly asked her to babysit. “I was at their beck and call. They never hired a babysitter, saying they only trusted me.”

She didn’t want to be quite so hands-on. So, my friend and her husband moved from the Upper West Side of New York City to Vermont. Now, when the time works for her, the grandkids visit and stay for a few days without their parents. “And it’s heaven,” she says.

When I return home from the Caribbean vacation with Ava, I get my life back without the guilt. The Atlantic Ocean sets an indisputable boundary. It’s not like I’m down the road from Ava, torn between whether I should go play with her or go see that movie I’d been reading about.

If given the choice, I know myself and the guilt would win, I’d go to Ava. After all, I’m her grandmother.

I do admit, however, that when I get home, I deeply miss Ava’s hugs and butterfly kisses. Kerry Byrne, founder of the Long Distance Grandparent support group, coaches people on how to deal with the loss of not being the grandparent they envisioned. She has a slew of suggestions on how to be proactive with faraway grandchildren, including a video chat app called Marco Polo whose tagline is "One video is worth a thousand texts."

“You are the first generation that can play games on video chat. It's so much better than the telephone,” Byrne told me in an interview. “Baby Boomers and Gen-X grandparents are forging the way with this relationship online.”

Byrne suggests long-distance grandparents wear memorable costume items like giant sunglasses when they play video peekaboo with their little loved ones. For older grandchildren, Byrne recommends surprising them by learning little-known facts about something the kids are interested in, such as a football team or a band they admire.

On the flight to London for grandmother visits, I channel my excited and energetic inner granny. On the flight home, I breathe deeply and channel my inner Elena. I want to be the kind of grandmother who is both — there for adorable Ava, but also there for herself.

Are any of you a long-distance grandmother? Let us know in the comments below.