A few years ago I was up at a park near Brooks, along with some of my younger boys. A well-meaning
gentleman saw me with my kids and wanted to know if all three were my grandchildren, and did I have more somewhere else. Needless to say, he was embarrassed to learn that they were not my grandkids, and no, I didn't have any more anywhere else.
That has all changed within the past three years, I am happy to say. I am also happy to say that my new role in life (that would be “Poppa” to you) has now caught up with my “mature” looks. It's the being married to a grandmother that is still a little hard to comprehend...
You see, one of the greatest joys in life these past three years has been the safe and healthy arrival of four grandchildren. To date, two of our nine kids are married, and from their respective unions, they have two kids each.
One family lives west of here, the other lives east—very east of here. In fact, you couldn't get any “easter”--or at least that's how I think one would describe Nova Scotia.
There are reams of information on love and dating, marriage manners, raising cute kids and temperamental teens, and other family-related books. To date—and I admit, I haven't looked too hard—I am not aware of many books on how to be a good grandparent.
Indeed, there are books for people who reach the grandparent age—anything from graceful ageing, health tips, financial advice, and such. But I don't recall seeing anything that gives tips on grandparenting.
Just in case you think I am gearing up for a sales pitch about a new book I'm working on, forget it. I do have a few books I'm working on, but recommendations for raising the next generation once-removed isn't one of them.
There isn't a plethora of pointers for parenting grandkids is because, quite frankly, I don't think it's necessary. And it's not necessary for a couple of reasons.
One, I didn't need any lesson in how to love Kilmeny, Khaira, Ian, or Jasmine. Even when I heard of their conception, I can sincerely say that I started to love them. At their respective births, I was over the moon. And through these past three years—what with so much upheaval in my life—one constant has been the inexpressible joy that these kids have brought.
Said love comes without any prompting, pushing, or programming.
Two, I didn't need any lesson in how to behave around Kilmeny, Khaira, Ian, and Jasmine. If I had issues with language, drinking, smoking, temper, or whatever, the last thing I would want to do is corrupt those sweet little things. I don't have these struggles, but if I did, these kids would curb them big time. I don't need anyone to lay guilt trips on me as to the evils of certain vices around kids.
In other words, I wouldn't do anything within my power to do damage—emotional, physical, moral, or whatever—to those children. Their simple presence has a natural restraining influence on me, without me having to try.
Obviously, it's not all milk and honey having grandkids. I fret far more than I care to admit about the shape of the world these kids will grow up in. I thought the world that I raised my kids in was different enough than the one I was raised in. Now it will be even that much more different again, for this next generation.
From my perspective, I have serious struggles with shifts within every segment of society that Kilmeny, Khaira, Ian, and Jasmine will face. From work to play, from toys to tools, from finances to education, from values to vices, the culture is re-inventing itself so rapidly that it makes me shudder.
Thus, one of my roles as a grandparent is to provide some sort of constant, stabilizing presence in their respective hearts and minds. Despite the massive societal reshaping that is so pervasive, these kids—and hopefully more someday—must have the complete assurance that I am there for them.
That means I will be there to laugh and play with them, listen and talk with them—that is, support them anyway I can. That, for me, would also include the spiritual dimension: I need to pray with them and for them.
I don't know if you have met them yet. Their names are Kilmeny, Khaira, Ian, and Jasmine. Or did I mention their names already? Sometimes we doting grandparents can get carried away, you know.
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