Helayne Seidman
It’s the sweetest spot in the Big Apple.
Stressed-out New Yorkers can now get a free dose of grandmotherly love and advice from a nana on duty at a once-a-week, pop-up “Grandma Stand.”
On a recent Friday afternoon, dozens of passersby stopped by the purple, makeshift therapy booth on West 63rd Street and Central Park West, where Upper West Side grandmother Sharon Fitzpatrick, 78, offered a sympathetic ear and old-timey wisdom.
In response to the Grandma Stand’s question of the day – “What was something good your parents taught you?” – 29-year-old Sol Lowenstein shared how his mother preached respect and empathy.
“We talked about how those lessons are really important, especially now, because there’s a lot of division around the country,” said Lowenstein, a banker.
“For me, it felt so warm to see this grandma here giving people advice. I didn’t really know my grandparents because they passed away when I was young. . . . Grandma Sharon made me feel warm, accepted and appreciated.”
Her warm common sense helped soothe several New Yorkers who said they felt anxious ahead of election day.
“Grandma Sharon said something that I think we all really need to hear and remember, which is that love is way more important and stronger than hate,” said Mary Bogle, 64, of Astoria.
That feeling of division is what inspired Mike Matthews – the mastermind behind the advice booth – to resurrect the Grandma Stand a few months ago.
Starting in 2013, the now 44-year-old Upper West Sider set up the stand once a week, where his own grandmother, Eileen, would video call in from her home in Sammamish, WA., to give New Yorkers advice. Eileen died at 102 years old in 2018 and the tradition paused.
“There’s so much uncertainty today, with elections and wars and just a general sense of isolation. . . . Everyone wants to feel a little humbled, disarmed, and just open and vulnerable – and that’s what grandmas can do,” Matthews told The Post.
Matthews posts the dates and locations of the Grandma Stand on an Instagram account, and rotates between six volunteer grannies to staff the booth each week.
One of the grandmas is Matthews’ own mother, Jan, who video calls from from her Washington state home. Recently, a pouty 5-year-old boy told her he was having a “horrible day.”
“I asked him, ‘Was there one good thing that happened today that you can remember?’ And he got this big smile on his face and said, ‘Talking to you,’” said Jan, 71. She then advised the youngster to “try to remember the good stuff when you’re feeling down.”
Teresa Saldana, a 62-year-old Texan, told Grandma Sharon how her parents taught her strength – a lesson she hopes she will pass down to her two grandchildren.
“Grandmas are everything – they bring everybody together, they unite. Something changes when grandma dies,” Saldana said as tears welled in her eyes.
David Deutscher recalled, “My parents told me to talk to everyone. For example, walking into school, I wouldn’t just say hi to the teacher. I would say hi to the secretary, hi to the janitor. It gives people joy.”
Grandma Sharon agreed.
“We both said that we hope the younger generations will also value that,” said Deutscher, 32.
The conversations are equally impactful for the grannies, Fitzpatrick pointed out.
“So many people are looking for respect and love and to feel good, and make others feel that way. . . . It gives me hope. It makes me feel so wonderful,” she said.