There are few professions or callings that require as little training than that of a grandparent. This became perfectly clear to me, once again, when I spent some time recently up at Edmonton. While I do have grand-kids in Edmonton, my initial reason for heading north in the dead of winter was to lend my support to the voices courageous defenders of educational freedom.
I was one of the 500 + souls that braved the cold to say “No” to Section 16 of the new Education Act, Bill 2.
On that note, while I am very much in the home education camp, supporters of Christian education, Catholic education, and even public education, should have been there, too. At least I made an attempt, and it was worth the trip to see and hear the Education Minister, Thomas Lukaszuk, and the Wildrose's education critic, Rob Anderson, in person.
It was also worth the effort to see two other special people in person, namely, Kilmeny (rhymes with 'harmony' and Khaira (pronounced 'ky-rah'). It's getting harder and harder to see them, then leave them, and it's going to get even harder in the years to come. Double that with two more grand-babies over yonder in Kamloops (hello, Ian and Jasmine, you cute things, you!), and one would have to be God-like (ie., omnipresent) in order to be everywhere at the same time.
Either that, or very wealthy and very retired.
I vowed I would never be like other grandparents who drop everything, at the first hint of a cold, or the first call for babysitting. That promise lasted, of course, until the first one had a cold and the other one needed babysitting. Well, I actually haven't dashed like I've wanted to, but I have had the irresistible urge to do so.
And that's my point: One doesn't learn to become a grandparent by studying for it; one learns to become a grandparent by simply being one. I don't know what latent chromosome kicks in at birth—the grandchild's, that is—but something kicked in instantaneously when Kilmeny was born. And then again, when Ian, Khaira, and Jasmine each entered my world.
As much as a wordsmith that I am, I cannot logically or coherently explain what that particular bond is. If I gave it a natural quality, I would describe it as glue. Like romance, it's real and powerful; but unlike romance, it's durable and steady.
I don't know how many times I've told all the grand-kids to stop looking at me with those big, inviting eyes. Every time they do that, I get the urge to splurge at Toys-R-Us, with a side trip to Calories-R-Us (also known as Dairy Queen) on the way back. There's just something about those pleading eyes that makes me go all silly.
Well, I've been silly lots of times, but at least now I have a reason.
Grand-kids have that redemptive quality about them. That is, when we are new parents, or parents that repeat the same stupid mistakes for twenty years, we have limited means whereby we can undo what we did wrong. But once grand-kids are in the picture, there is that sense of family redemption: We can salvage this new relationship, and even the old one can possibly be tweaked, if necessary.
I'm not sure, but I think it revolves around more time and more attention. It's clear to me that it doesn't revolve around more money and more things. For the most part, many of us have more money and more things these days, say, than our parents ever had, yet our collective family lives have never been worse. You'll never find any parent on his or her deathbed wishing they had given more money and more things to their kids; rather, they would have given more time and more attention.
That's where grandchildren can provide such a welcome relief to those of us who feel we should have or could have done a better job in raising their parents. Grandchildren, then, are not so much as an excuse to correct poor parenting, as they are a second chance to make up for lost time and attention.
And, by the way, Kilmeny, Khaira, Ian, and Jasmine: You are four reasons why I went to that brave rally the other day. Yes, I did it for my own kids, as well as for the homeschooling families that I oversee; and for my own wide, wide circle of friends who have kids or will have kids. I don't want to be guilty of not standing up for you (and them) when I had the opportunity.
And don't worry: I will be up to see you in Edmonton and Kamloops soon. Hopefully it shouldn't take an educational rally to make me come back to see you. But either way, maybe we can stop by Dairy Queen on the way home.
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