My granddaughter wanted to spend the summer with me and my husband and we were excited to have her. Being just the two of us most of the year, Lily’s presence would come as a true refreshment.
I couldn’t wait to see how much she had grown during the past year. She was 13 already and being a teenager meant navigating new challenges. So, spending the summer with her granny and was supposed to be fun and relaxing, away from the school commitments and the pressures of teenage life.
When she finally arrived, I gave Lily a hug and asked her to give me her suitcase so I could unpack her. She thanked me and said she would go to the garden to see grandpa George.
When I started unpacking her, I was shocked by her clothes. There were no shirts and shorts of what I believed was normal and decent length. All I could see were tiny shorts and crop tops. On top of that, there were some perfumes and plenty of make-up.
“Why would a 13-year-old need make-up?” I thought to myself.
Worried, I decided to give my daughter Emily a call.
“Hey, mom,” she said with excitement. “Is Lily settling in?”
“Emily, we need to talk,” I said with a serious tone of voice. “I have just gone through Lily’s clothes. Her short look more like underwear than actual clothing,” I said, concerned. “Why would you let her wear something like this?”
Emily laughed. She said she didn’t like the way her daughter dressed either, but it was what everyone her age wore. “Times have changed, ma,” Emily said, assuring me that those outfits were the new normal among teenagers.
I couldn’t wrap my mind around Emily’s words. But she was Lily’s mother and she probably knew what was best for her daughter, so I let it go.
Later that day, as Lily was spending time in the garden, my husband made a comment about Lily’s outfit and asked if we should do something about it.
“I have talked to Emily already and she didn’t seem to mind her daughter’s style,” I said. “We better not interfere any further.”
But George convinced me to talk to Lily that night, and I listened to him.
When I entered Lily’s room, she was reading her book and welcomed me in.
I asked her what was about her clothes and she said that all her friends dressed that way and she just wanted to fit in.
I understood her, and asked her not to let lose herself following trends.
My granddaughter assured me she wouldn’t, saying she was the same Lily from before, only her style has changed.
Thinking about it, I realized that times have really changed, and my Lily only wanted to be trendy. Then I remembered how my own mother went mad when I was young and asked her to get me some go-go boots.
I shared that story with my granddaughter and she laughed, asking to see me wear those go-go boots. I got some old photo albums that she enjoyed flipping the pages of.
One of them showed George’s handlebar mustache from the 70s. “What were you thinking grandpa,” Lily laughed. “That was fashionable back then,” George answered as he patted Lily on the head.
The next day, when Lily and I were making my famous apple pie and George peeled the apples for us, he and I looked at each other and secretly agreed that no matter what she wore, Lily was still our loving granddaughter. Her character, her kindness, and her respect and love for us remained the same.
