My oldest grandchild reached a milestone this spring—he celebrated his 10th birthday. Or as he puts it, he celebrated his “double-digit” birthday. Where have all the years gone? It seems like only yesterday we were pacing the halls of the hospital, waiting on tenterhooks for his arrival. When he was only hours old, and while his parents caught up on some much-needed rest, I cuddled and rocked him in the nursery. In that cocooned environment, I softly sang my favourite song to him—Moon River. I remember marvelling at his big blue eyes, how alert they were. While they obviously couldn’t focus, they clearly expressed his fascination with the melody he was hearing. As he listened, his eyebrows knit together in a puzzled frown of concentration. Compared to the muted sounds in his mother’s womb, I am sure he didn’t know what to make of my singing!
Now 10 years have passed. Ten years of birthday parties with little buddies wired on too much birthday cake and treats, trick or treating at Halloween in costumes he didn’t want to take off, Christmas mornings with a frenzy of ripping open presents and first days at school with toothless grins and the classic photo on the front step. Over the years, he and I have made innumerable trips to the beach and the playground, read scores of books together (at first, me reading to him and then him reading to me), and of course, built lots and lots of LEGO (I have no doubt we have single-handedly kept LEGO in business…).
Little did I know with my own children that that first decade was actually the easiest. Young kids are small, compact, easy to distract and when all else fails, easy to bribe. In other words, I could usually get my children to do what I needed them to do or go where I needed them to be. It was that second decade that produced the greatest challenges.
As my grandson enters the pre-teen years, I naturally fret over the pitfalls of things like bullying, peer pressure and most especially, social media. These can be turbulent waters nowadays and they are only a prequel to the even scarier teenage years where there are the added worries of drugs and alcohol, drivers’ licenses, dating, depression and anxiety and a host of other issues that can come into play. You’d think, as grandparents (and thus, one generation removed), we would worry less, but I can assure you, that is not the case. We worry just the same, perhaps even more because our own parenting experience has made us acutely aware of the possible perils. After all, we’ve been there, done that. And yet, the dizzying pace of change always presents new challenges. Who would have thought we would all struggle with the far-reaching impact of a global pandemic when the last one (Spanish flu) was in the distant past?
I can only hope my grandson will remember what we’ve taught him over the years, important lessons like trusting his gut or that being different is perfectly fine. I hope he will extend a kind hand when called upon and do the right thing rather than the easy thing when he’s given a choice. It’s hard to tell the measure of someone until they are tested, and I know he will be tested; I just hope he can rely on his inner compass.
In the meantime, he’s still a little boy and I will treasure whatever years, months, weeks or even days that are left in which he still looks forward to spending time with his Nonna. I am fully aware that at some point, I will take a back seat to new interests or new friends or perhaps a student job that makes demands on his time, but until then, I relish his eagerness to come to Nonna’s house.
Now that my grandson is 10, I hope he’s not embarrassed to slip his hand in mine as he has always done, hug me fiercely or tell me his dreams.
