dilemmas

What do we long for when we yearn for grandchildren? It's not exactly the same feeling as longing for children of our own, for we (and I say "we" advisedly; I'd love to be a grandmother) long for lots of different things. We long to have a role as a grandmother, which is a completely different one to that of being a parent, for it's a role of being able to treat a child, to be able to look after it when there's time to be patient, to play endless games, to take quiet walks without having to race frantically home to cook supper, to build a special relationship with it that's based more on friendship and enjoyment than on discipline and nurturing.

To become a kind of surrogate granny or auntie to other people's children can nearly do the trick, except for one crucial difference: they aren't related to you. And from the experiences of grandparent friends, one of the pleasures of having grandchildren is apparently that they are genetically part of your line and give you a curious feeling of being part of a long chain of generations that even having children never quite gives you. As for adopting poor children abroad through aid programmes, that's fine, but you're not allowed to send them presents or, indeed, meet them, and in my experience the rich correspondence I've been promised has always turned out to be nothing more than a cyclostyled teacher's report accompanied by a crayoned drawing of a tropical flower. Being a grandparent involves hugging and cuddling, secret supplies of sweets, "special" toys lodged in hidden cupboards; of putting the child first instead of second. Parents bring up their children first of all; grandparents enjoy their grandchildren first of all - rather a different role.

Barbara's right not to nag her children about not "giving" her grandchildren, but I don't think there's any reason why she can't bring the subject up just once; she's only human, after all, and she is a relation of the putative grandchild. Certainly it would make a difference to her life if she were to know whether her children were infertile, for instance, or had made a big decision never to have children. There's a lot of harm in harping or nagging, but no harm at all in asking. Indeed, I think she has a right to do son

What readers say

My advice would be to get a job baby-sitting!

I too have three children, one married, and no sign of any babies; my husband, too, is dead; but I have "adopted" so many babies and children, two of whom call me "Nanny Val", as I've cared for them since birth and love them as my own.

I too feel sad I haven't any, but I'm so lucky to have three super, caring children and I know they are wary of bringing babies into this very troubled world, so I make do with my "adopted" ones - children can never have too much love.

Go on, have a go.

Valerie Hellinger

The real problem for Barbara seems to me to be loneliness and low self- esteem, not the lack of grandchildren. It might help to contact an organisation such as Cruse, which is experienced in helping the bereaved, who are often unable to ask for help for five years or more after the event.

Barbara should not mention her desire for grandchildren to her family. My husband and I are 34, and have had a prolonged period of infertility followed by two miscarriages. It is heartbreaking to us that the proud granny will visit my brother-in-law and his two small children at every opportunity, often for days at a time, yet visits us rarely, and for only an hour or two. During my pregnancies she could not do enough for us, and it feels that she valued us only for our babies.

Barbara's children may not want to have a family, or they may find themselves unable to do so. In either case, any pressure she may put on them could seriously damage her relationship with them.

Andrea, Norwich

I was struck by the word "reproduce" - your children and their partners are not baby machines to satisfy your longings, understandable though they may be. You have had your youth and had the children that you wanted, and must let them get on with their lives as they see fit. They probably have perfectly good reasons for not having children yet, and nowadays a good many people, such as myself and my partner, simply do not want children. Why not get involved in youth schemes, or volunteer as a reading helper at a local school?

G Parker, Oxford

We brought up five children - more than enough for parental feelings. Neither my wife nor myself would want to worry about, still less baby- sit, small children, at approaching mid-seventies.

Our memories are littered with tales from distracted elder parents roped in for baby-sitting, child care during holidays for parents, etc. One example: a pensioner widow was invited to visit a daughter 50 miles away, to find she was designated carer for two small children whilst Mum and Dad had a weekend away ... Our advice to your enquirer: enjoy life, leave others to do the same, and think yourself lucky!

Olive & Arthur, Newport Pagnell

Next week's problem: My husband has Alzheimer's disease ...

Dear Virginia,

I'm in my fifties and caring for my husband of the same age with advanced Alzheimer's disease. The illness has changed him from the gentle and loving person he was, to a semi-stranger who is often aggressive and unable to communicate; he barely recognises me. We had a deeply fulfilling relationship intellectually, emotionally and physically, but that's gone and I feel cheated at losing my best friend and lover. I've never been unfaithful to him, but recently someone's shown me real affection and I feel drawn to him in return. Should I reach out for what happiness I can get, or should I stick to my marriage vows? I have no intention of stopping caring for my husband, by the way.

Yours, Maddy

Comments are welcome, and everyone who has a suggestion quoted will be sent a bouquet from Interflora. Send personal experiences or comments to me at the Features Department, `The Independent', 1 Canada Square, Canary Wharf, London, E14 5DL; fax 0171-293 2182, by Tuesday morning. If you have a dilemma of your own that you would like to share, let me know.