I remember watching my small grandson build an intricate Lego tower. His brow was furrowed in concentration and his fingers were nimble with determination.
As he clipped the final brick into place, he looked up and chortled. “Did you see that, Mimi?”
That look — wordless but full — reminded me: We grandparents hold a unique kind of power. Not the kind measured in estate plans or tax shelters, but the power of quiet presence and enduring love.
In recent weeks, you’ve heard from thoughtful professionals — an estate attorney, a CPA, and a wealth adviser — each offering wise counsel on how to steward financial resources for your grandchildren. These tools are invaluable.
But as I reflect on what grandchildren truly need from us, I believe our most lasting legacy may not be what we give, but how we show up.
Currency of presence
Long after the checks have cleared and the trusts are dissolved, what remains are the memories. The moments. The way you laughed at their jokes, even the bad ones. The stories you told — about your childhood, your mistakes, your first job, your first love. These are the things that stick. And these are the treasures no accountant can tally.
Our presence is the most generous gift we can give. It says, “You matter to me,” not through words, but through time spent over puzzles, burnt toast breakfasts, or long walks around the block.
Imparting values
There’s a story behind every dollar you’ve earned and every decision you’ve made. If you’re considering a financial gift—whether it’s contributing to a 529 plan or setting up a trust—consider sharing the why behind the gift.
What values are you hoping to pass along? Hard work? Education? Generosity? Responsibility?
Telling the story behind your decisions breathes life into the gift. It’s one thing to leave behind money for college; it’s another to say, “I never had the chance to go, but I believe in your future. This is my way of investing in you.” Now the gift becomes a message—and one that may be passed on again.
Grandparenting in a new world
We’re raising grandchildren in a world we couldn’t have imagined at their age. Screens outnumber conversations. Families are often spread across zip codes, time zones, and even continents. Traditions are shifting, and so is the meaning of connection.
Still, we can remain anchored in our role. Connection doesn’t require proximity—it requires intentionality. A weekly phone call, a hand-written birthday card, a bedtime story over Zoom, or even a silly voice memo singing happy birthday. Technology offers new ways to say, “You matter. I’m here.”
And for those of us who live nearby, our simple presence at a recital or science fair may communicate more than any inheritance ever could.
Influence without control
The role of the grandparent is sacred—and delicate. We are not the parents, but we are part of the architecture of their becoming.
That means letting go of the need to direct and embracing the opportunity to influence. It means offering perspective without pushing an agenda. It means listening more than lecturing.
I often remind myself: I’m here to witness, to support, and to bless—not to correct or critique. That restraint becomes an act of love.
What they’ll remember
In the end, our grandchildren may not remember the amount in the account or the structure of the trust. But they will remember how we made them feel.
They’ll remember if we looked up from our phones when they entered the room – if we called them by name with delight – if we made them feel like they were more important than the to-do list or the news or the next appointment.
They will remember our laughter. Our warmth. Our unwavering belief in them.
Of course, give if you’re able. Set up the accounts. Write the wills. Take care of the practical pieces. But don’t forget the other legacy – the one that requires no paperwork, the one that only you can leave – the legacy of love, presence, and purposeful influence.
It just might be the one that lasts the longest.
Patti Cotton is a thought partner to CEOs and other business leaders to help manage complexity and change. Reach her at Patti@PattiCotton.com.
