When you don’t have children of your own, the only children in your life belong to someone else. If you want to spend time with young people, you have to borrow them.
Sometimes this can cause problems; sometimes parents’ dreams come true. As with anything borrowing, I think most of us childless folks are fine with borrowing kids. Otherwise, we’ll just return them.
According to A Pew Research Center 2024 Study. The same Pew study found that nearly half (47 percent) of adults ages 18-50 are unlikely to have children, up 10 percentage points from 2018 results.
So if you like kids and don’t have kids, where do you borrow them? Children of siblings are natural. Those nieces and nephews enjoy some time with other adults. You know you grew up with one of their parents. But maybe they live far away. Neighbor children may live very close, and there is a risk that you will need a babysitter when you are trying to watch TV or do laundry.
There are many children in elementary schools and they always need help. The first time I braved an adult trip to my local school, I felt like I didn’t belong. Then, like a mirage, I saw a teacher I knew. She invited me into her classroom and first of all – I started what would take decades to teach little ones to read. Especially the ones who were struggling seemed to get a few hours of one-on-one time each week.
I loved the beginning of each school year and introduced myself every time. “Hi, I’m Kate,” I said. “This is my fourth time in second grade.” (Or whatever number was right.)
One fell, a boy stood up and took my hand and looked me straight in the eye. “It’s okay, Miss Kate. I’ll help you.”
I met my young friend Anna after my senior year in college. He got an internship at the nearby Beach Arts Center. I served as his community liaison, welcoming him and showing him around. We fell for each other from the beginning. Later, Anna moved below me. We started addressing each other as doting mother and daughter. Later, when he moved to the city with his girlfriend, I rented a room in their house. I got my city fix. They received much needed financial support and we saw each other regularly.
One holiday, her mother, who lives two hours away, asked me to go for a walk. “Something bothers me,” he said. “I’m jealous of the time you get to spend with my daughter. You see her more than I do. I had to admit it to you.”
I was dumbfounded. Later, Anna told me that her mother recognized her jealousy to his daughter as well, adding that the names of our animals hurt each other. Neither of us knew what to do, but it overshadowed our relationship for a long time.
I don’t know what his mother was worried about. What’s wrong with enjoying the company of a young friend? I know who Anna would choose if forced to choose between us.
Now that I share a relationship with my father and grandfather, I am caught up in the chaos of his family life. I know how to play with children and enjoy reading. Sometimes I get overwhelmed and he knows I need a break from the anger. I like to read under the tree.
Last summer, I was shocked when my oldest grandson called me “Grandma Kate.” The name felt like a misplaced honor that only came from belonging. I feel like more of a friend and see if the grandma thing sticks.
It occurred to me that there are many paths in a child’s life. Some of us give birth, raise our children, and hope that they will hold our hands when we die. The rest of us spread our love throughout our lives, with some people for years, with others as short, momentary encounters.
My friend Anna is now a mother. These days we live across town and I am teaching her 7 year old how to spell.
