A grandfather is allowed to philosophize if he wants to. Right now I want to. If you’d rather be out mowing the lawn, or possibly reading a book or going swimming, you’re welcome to go do it now. I won’t mind. Much. But if you’d like to hear about Rider’s Blessed Burden (which will be this grandpa phlosophizin’ some), then pull up a chair.
We are all born into preexisting webs of relationships and family connections. Everybody derives from and is related to a pretty long list of somebodies. Even a person from a “small” family has his or her share of folks who share a pint or a gallon of a common bloodline. I only have to look back a generation or two on my own relatively small family’s family tree to become impressed by the bigness of the gathered multitude before, beside, and within me.
It can’t be helped, but tiny new little babies are instant inheritors of this, this, what? Gift? Burden? Maybe it’s a little of both, sometimes more one than the other. Being a lover and noticer of juxtapositions, things placed together that don’t seem to belong there, I can’t help but looking at sweet little Rider, my grandson, and wondering how he is going to bear up under the weight of all this inheritance which he instantly attained the second he was born. Or maybe I should ask: how will he fit in and continue the pattern, the intricate mosaic of people, places, and actions that led to his birth? His parents bring great bundles of history and lore and genes to the mix, but it doesn’t stop with them. This barely three-month old boy also bears the history and lore and genes of his parents’ parents, we doting, fawning grandparents. Multiply the complexity of two parents by adding grandparents to the equation, and you’ve exponentially increased the beautiful weight of it all. His parents and grandparents (and I include the grandparents’ children, Rider’s uncles and aunts, in this second group) have enough stories, enough history, enough genes and traits to search for in Rider’s features to last the child a lifetime.
But guess what. Little Rider’s Blessed Burden is even bigger than that, a reality we celebrated, savored, and photographed a few weeks ago. Not only is Rider a child and a grandchild, a nephew and a cousin, he is also a great-grandchild. As if the lore, the tales, the actions and events and history and genes of two generations weren’t enough, there’s more. Weave in everything that great-grandparents (the parents of this rambling grandfather) add to the mosaic. Now we’re looking at Rider and wondering if his nose isn’t perhaps like his great-grandmother’s, or maybe his forehead, his great-grandfather’s. And what started out as the large book’s worth of his parents stories and expanded to a several volume set with the grandparent’s stories, now has become several shelves of stories and lore and names and dates and places and joys and sorrows and births and deaths and on and on.
It was a pleasure watching my parents meet their great-grandchild. I found the miracle of my own children’s birth hard to grasp, this first grandchild’s, a wondrous mystery. I think my parents felt thrilled and amazed and possibly a little stunned seeing the child of their child’s child. Honestly, it was hard to take it all in. I loved watching them study Rider, looking at his features, checking, comparing, admiring. And loving. I think the great-grandparents enjoyed and treasured every moment they had with their great-grandson. I know I was glad to be a part of that moment.
Rider’s blessed burden: it’s big alright. But you know what? I think that fast growing, quickly lengthening, keen observer of his world is up to the task. I think he’ll carry this weight just fine, learning the stories and adding his own.
Rider with a small bit of his blessed burden.
Relaxing with Great-Grandma
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