The stories in our dossier are heartening ones: grandchildren with Down syndrome, most of them welcomed easily, not difficult to care for.
But it's not always that way. Some grandparents want nothing to do with a grandchild like this. A son or daughter may hesitate to entrust their "difficult case" to people who would only complicate life further. Sometimes a grandchild is simply too demanding for elderly people no longer strong enough to manage difficult behavior, too far removed from tasks that require patient interpretation.
This is especially true with autistic children and adolescents—a challenge not only for parents but for educators as well. I've thought long about the many situations I've witnessed over the years. Being a grandmother myself for some time now, I feel I can say this: whatever objective difficulties some cases present, grandparents have an important role they can and perhaps must always play, in every circumstance.
The role of being the first supporters of their own children—now parents of children who are somewhat complicated.
To support, I think, means to commit body and soul to loving that child from the start. To let the parents know—even if they are lost, distant, silent, angry at first—that you are there, ready to stand with them without judgment, without advice, without correction.
It's not easy, especially for grandmothers, to be present with tenderness and warmth without damaging the delicate thread of trust being built with such effort. A careless comment, a slip of the tongue—these can wound deeply. Being a grandparent is hard. The generational distance feels wider every year. When something so unexpected arrives, something nobody prepared for, something that disrupts what was already difficult—then you feel you cannot hold steady. You fear you're facing something entirely foreign. You pull back. You hesitate. You pretend not to notice. You talk about something else. But meanwhile you know you're abandoning the role nature has given you.
Yet being a good grandparent is simple when you stop overcomplicating it. All it takes is accepting that you are no longer a parent—caught up in a thousand obligations to family—but a grandparent. In plain terms: to play the role of tenderness toward your children and grandchildren. To break the tension with a good smile. To make a joke when the mood darkens. To pull out a forgotten toy or book or photograph to shift attention from something that's become tense. To suggest singing an old song together. To plan a surprise meal. To give your children an evening out while you keep the grandchildren close.
A thousand small gestures, each one asking chiefly this: that you set aside your own pain, your own worry about that difficult child. Let it be overwhelmed instead by understanding and the open-hearted availability you feel toward your beloved children and grandchildren.