HOLDING NEW HANDS

Soon I will be another grandfather, when my daughter Kasumi brings her second baby into the world, a brother or sister for Kaya. In the same way that one is a new father for each of one's own children, one is a new grandfather for each new grandchild.  Another grandfather is a remarkable thing to be, as anyone knows who's ever been one; it's a special experience never twice the same, like being an elephant now and then, or a giant redwood, or a choo-choo train, mountain, horsey or pogo stick, as required, and on through the endless list you now have time for.

It's not being full-time responsibly busy on all fronts, the way parenting was; now is when you get your chance at being that more flexible ancient continuous one we all are, layered over with being whatever you can muster up right now from the mythology: sort of post-graduate parenting. Being another grandfather is a newer thing than I expected. (And what if it's a boy?)

Still, it's not as though you have to learn how to be another grandfather; if you've managed to remain genuine, and still contain the magical savor of your own childhood and parenthood (you find that out with your first grandchild), then every subsequent grandfathering should come as naturally as holding a new hand.  One is already familiar with grandfathering, and whatever you give in that capacity is returned in more than full measure.

One evening recently I was walking with 2-year-old Kaya in the light of sunset, when she pointed to the western sky and shouted: "Pink!" while jumping up and down. I hadn't looked at the sunset in that full-eyed, amazing-discovery way for 60 years and there it was again, fresh as the first time, because I was holding a new hand.

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[Wrote this way back then (2003) but never posted it, because Kasumi had twins(!) girls(!) and it got lost in the ensument... Came across it putting the book (Monkeys & Onions) together... RB]

TOM SAWYER GRANDFATHERING

Wow, do grandkids want to help! Fortunately there's over a foot of snow all over the car that you would have cleared off earlier this morning but you knew the three grandgirls were coming for a visit today, so now that they're here excited outside, all dressed up for snow and wondering what fun to have first, before their curious eyes you wield the magic extendable snow brush in a fascinating way over the roof of the car and a big chunk of snow puffs to the ground in a joyous manner, when all at once a flurry of 7- and 10-year-olds are grabbing at the snowbrush, saying "Me! Me! Me! Let Me do it! I'll do it! I can do it, give me that! No, I want to! No, Me!" and so on in childy warmth at the heart of the mountain whiteness, actually fighting to help, and it just so happens that you have two other brushes at hand; the car is snow free in about 2 minutes.

After sufficient pause in admiration of such thorough work, you wander onto the large deck that has nearly 2 feet of drifted snow on it that you would have shoveled off early this morning with the big slide shovel, but you knew the grandies were coming so you waited for the high tides of energy and enthusiasm, i.e., after the car is cleaned, and before there's any mention of sledding. You reach with interest for the handle of the shovel, just to casually clear that large playful deck of so much fun snow. You give an easylooking artistic push, the snow gathers in a writhing pile as it glides across the deck and spills over the edge in a cloudy thump to the ground below as you return for more glee in this snowy wonderland, when three snowgirls as one grab the shovel handle saying "Me! Me! Me! I'll do it! Let Me do it! I can do it, give me that! No, I want to! No, Me!" and so on in wintry playfulness. And as luck would have it, there are two additional shovels right at hand and the big deck is clear in about 3 minutes, under careful direction from the head artist.

The reward for all this generous effort is the mention of major sledding, another big feature of mountainsides, where squeals of delight are right at home.