Feb. 04, 2002 - 19:50 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Lost

Every now and then I get the feeling that there is something missing. Just at the edge of remembrance it hovers, until it disappears or I remember the thing I am striving to recall.

Our family is growing one great grandchild after another coming along, and then of my grandchildren there are only two youngsters among the elder grands. There is a deep joy in my heart when I get to hold a great grandchild in my arms for a little while, visit back and forth with their parents and watch our eldest, a son, revel in being a grandparent again. Two boys, the first a spitting image of him, in looks and actions, the second -- it may take a while to tell.

But I am missing something and it finally occurred to me what it is.

I miss the rapture of being a father, changing diapers, heating bottles, holding a baby in my arms while it is feeding and burping the baby afterward.

I miss the bonding that takes place through time and propinquity. A little head on my shoulders and a tiny hand patting me to let me know I am loved.

I miss being with a child every day and watching that child closely as a Work In Progress on the way to becoming an adult. The observation of their development, their ability to communicate, their joy in small things and their enthusiasm in living to the hilt.

I remember tiptoeing into their bedroom and watching them sleep, marveling at the beauty of babyhood. Watching Heather dressing them up to go somewhere, how wonderful they looked. Their looks of wonder at some new thing, a humming bird dining at a flower. The act of discovery was with them every day and created joy and resonating heartstrings.

Heather and I watched the grandchildren as they came, loved every little bit about them. We thrilled at every new achievement of one or another of them. We saw them in their best bib and tuckers many times. Watched them at play when we visited or their folks visited us or perhaps at one of the innumerable family gatherings.

So, old man, you have it all now. What the heck do you miss ?

I miss being a daddy of a young child, a baby, a first grader. Being the daddy who tucks them into bed and kissing them goodnight (as long as they let me). I miss sitting, smoking and drinking coffee as I feel my household happily settlling down to sleep around me. I miss playing their favorite games with them, over and over again. Missed are the fun times I was able to teach one of our children and see that spark of understanding show in a face. I miss taking them to the park for picnics, to the zoo, just Heather and I and our kids.

Watching them making the grade and moving up to the next school, I miss watching one of our kids graduating from high school or college.

Although our kids had friends and were active in the neighborhood and schools we were still a Nuclear family. Used to each other and responsive to the situations that arose. We circled the wagons at night and settled down as one entity to rest.

With the grands and great grands we see them for a little while and then they go home. I don't have much of a chance to do the things I did with our kids. I don't have to strive to solve their problems as I did ours -- hey, they have daddies to do that. I expect that if Heather and I were younger we would happily take in a grandchild to raise, some one to joyfully live the life of a happy, young child - - for awhile at least.

I miss that and realize that for me now, being the daddy of a baby, tot, teenager is now Lost . . . . . . .

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