Several weeks ago, I traveled to Baltimore for a series of meetings. Having carried out my business, I traveled to the home of Nomi and Keith, my daughter and son-in-law, and Bina, the Blessed first grandchild. Those of us who are grandparents know of the indescribable, visceral joy of seeing our grandchildren after an extended absence. At ten months, Bina's first reation is one of slight confusion, and then, a pointed finger, pre-language chatter and a heart-melting, baby teeth revealing smile. Words obscure the depth of love I feel for her. Perhaps Song of Songs, 2:12 comes close: "The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing is come".
The Thursday of my visit was reserved for grandpa sitting as Nomi headed for her social work field placement. The night before, I was fully briefed on the use of the electric bottle warmer, video night vision baby-monitor, sound machine and ultrasonic humidifier. I navigated most of these devices with a novice’s level of expertise but ran into difficulty when I overheated the bottle and then frantically labored to cool it under the running water with one hand while holding the lunging and crying Bina in the other. Having marginally navigated the Bina and bottle challenge, I determined to venture out for a walk, only to spend 20 minutes negotiating the safety harness on the Baby Jogger City Mini Single Stroller. I was out of breath before taking the first step out the door. By the time Nomi returned home for the day, I could barely stagger up the stairs for a nap.
My Thursday grandpa sitting for Bina revealed a grandparental dynamic that was framed by one grandmother we interviewed as part of the Jewish Grandparents Network factfinding: “It’s not that easy taking care of little kids. It’s joyful but it not easy.” Sitting on the floor with a 9-month old Bina I searched for ways to fill time. What new game? What story? What toy will she respond to? How will I know she is ready for a nap? While the “Bina bottle challenge” lasted perhaps 5 minutes, in the moment, it seemed to go on forever. As a new grandparent, I am learning how much I need to learn and relearn about caring for children. But once I managed to strap Bina in the stroller and negotiate our way through the front door and down the porch steps a wash of joy descended over me. The day was warm and sunny, and a slight breeze wafted through the Baltimore streets. Passers-by smiled and nodded their heads. There aren’t enough adjectives: joy, delight, gratifying, peaceful, grateful…..
Friends of mine who are grandparents speak of the joy of the grandparent-grandchild relationship framed within the absence of parental responsibilities: “As a parent, I was always overwhelmed. Now, my only job is to be with my grandchildren when I’m with them. I’m not distracted by other stuff – it is so enriching.” And, without question, being a grandparent provides one the best seat in the house from which to observe the miracle of creation and the enchantment of a child’s development. But, from my limited perspective as a new grandfather, there is a deeper and perhaps ineffable quality of love that we feel for our grandchildren. Perhaps it is our primal brain rewarding us deep within our limbic center for an evolutionary job well done. Presented in within a spiritual framework, perhaps our grandchildren link us to the eternal. In some measure, this is my contribution to the world to come.
The Thursday of my visit was reserved for grandpa sitting as Nomi headed for her social work field placement. The night before, I was fully briefed on the use of the electric bottle warmer, video night vision baby-monitor, sound machine and ultrasonic humidifier. I navigated most of these devices with a novice’s level of expertise but ran into difficulty when I overheated the bottle and then frantically labored to cool it under the running water with one hand while holding the lunging and crying Bina in the other. Having marginally navigated the Bina and bottle challenge, I determined to venture out for a walk, only to spend 20 minutes negotiating the safety harness on the Baby Jogger City Mini Single Stroller. I was out of breath before taking the first step out the door. By the time Nomi returned home for the day, I could barely stagger up the stairs for a nap.
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| Bina and her Zayde |
Friends of mine who are grandparents speak of the joy of the grandparent-grandchild relationship framed within the absence of parental responsibilities: “As a parent, I was always overwhelmed. Now, my only job is to be with my grandchildren when I’m with them. I’m not distracted by other stuff – it is so enriching.” And, without question, being a grandparent provides one the best seat in the house from which to observe the miracle of creation and the enchantment of a child’s development. But, from my limited perspective as a new grandfather, there is a deeper and perhaps ineffable quality of love that we feel for our grandchildren. Perhaps it is our primal brain rewarding us deep within our limbic center for an evolutionary job well done. Presented in within a spiritual framework, perhaps our grandchildren link us to the eternal. In some measure, this is my contribution to the world to come.
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