You see, my daughter just gave birth to my first grandchild. And family members, and those whom I work with, and those whom I know, all want to pass on their good wishes and to a small degree (I suppose), share in the joy of the event.
Thus, naturally, knowing that this is my first grandchild, they ask; “how does it feel”.
I must admit that at first this was difficult to answer. In part because I tend to be a “controlled” individual who doesn’t share emotions widely. And in part because I really wasn’t sure what it was that I felt.
For me at least, having a grandchild impacted me differently than having a child. With my son and daughter, there was this instant connection or at least yearning for a connection from me to them. And there was fear, lots of fear. Would they live, would they be happy, would I be a loving and loved father, would I fail to see or sense or do something that would cause them harm.
Yep, as a father, holding that new born in my arms spun the mind up with plans, and needs, and demands, and responsibilities.
And “Proud”; people have suggested “proud” as in “how’s the proud grandpa”, but proud is not mine to feel; after-all, what did I have to do with the situation.
No, Proud is the distinct purgative of Allison and Kris, they have a right to be proud, they made a decision to bring a new life into this world and they made sure that their personal life-styles and habits were appropriate to provide the best probability for a healthy child. They made sure that nutrition and exercise, and sleep, and stress, and all the other controllable issues were understood and modified to meet the best guidance the medical profession could put forth.
But, last week and the week before, I was blessed with far too little time to hold my granddaughter.
There was of course the all-important time that she needed to be held by my daughter (her mother), and the different, yet equally important time that she needed to be held by her father (so that he could become a basket case of stress). After-all those two need to be her world; they need to have the bonds that bring the physical and mental nourishment that will sustain her throughout her life.
And there were of course the grandmothers and aunts and uncles who all deserved their time as well.
So as I said, I was blessed with all too little time to hold this new being of infinite opportunities for the betterment of the world.
And while the time that I did have held none of those worries that had haunted me as a father, there definitely had been feeling there, lots and lots of feeling.
None of it was concern about if I would hold her right, no stress of if I would provide enough to care for her, and teach her, and bring her to the fullest bloom of her desired potentials.
Nope, that time was simply filled with….”nothing but feeling”.
Oh, there was the old familiar deep feeling of total and complete protection, and there was the warm full sense of wonder and love that had been part of holding my own children. But absent were all of the worries, concerns, panic and stressful feelings of old.
So, now back in my work-a-day world, and separated from my granddaughter by hundreds of miles, with people asking how it feels, I have had time to think about and define what I felt, and how I feel, about being a grandfather. And I find that I can tell you in a single word.
Peaceful.
Yep, thinking back on the time that I did get to hold her, I realize that the feeling that I could not then describe was peace.
Peace. As in “all is right with the world” and as in “there is nothing more important, more necessary, or more rewarding, than simply sitting and holding her in my arm and gazing enrapture at her mouth, fingers, toes, eyes, and ears.
Peace that a new beginning of promise has come to my world. Peace that new dreams will be crafted, new goals will be set, and new emotions will be experienced.
Total, complete; warm the heart and sooth the fevered mind, enrich the soul; Peace.
©2018, Marty Vandermolen, All Rights Reserved
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