On Becoming A Grandfather

Ten years ago today, Justin did something very special for me.

He made me a grandfather.

Becoming a grandfather is one of life's significant milestones – at least it was for me. It marked a mystical moment.

As I thought back over the accumulated memories of the parenting years, the struggles and the joys, the losses and the learnings and the on-going hopes and fears, these all faded into the background as his grandmother and I welcomed this new bundle of life into our growing family. Justin was – is – the future; we became the heritage past.

Becoming a grandparent doubles your generational reach into the future. The marvel and mystery of a first-time parent looking at their own flesh-and-blood child, that was still there, though not as intensely as three decades earlier. But this time there was a wider, deeper joy, because I was so much more invested in the lives of everyone in that room. That feeling of privilege and wonder only increases with time.

Speaking about the majesty of God’s creation, Psalm 8 sings about children and infants embodying the mystery of God’s strength and silencing critics.

I wrote in my journal about the mystery wrapped in the helplessness of a new-born, his total dependency interwoven with his exquisite latent capabilities. Only hours old and instinctively grasping a finger, I imagined that little hand one day strumming a guitar or dribbling a basketball. Today, ten years later, those latent capacities are shaping a karate kid, an athlete and a scholar.

Happy Birthday, Justin. I’m one proud and lucky Grandpa – and I know your Grandma Knight would have made you a baseball-glove cake with ten candles to celebrate today.