Sometimes, when we're young adults, we roll our eyes at our parents' and grandparents' sentimentality. I didn't understand all the hype over being a grandparent.
Part of that may be that I'm still parenting while grandparenting. This past weekend, my eldest son graduated from Army Basic training. It has me being sentimental and reminiscing about his life. And, I look at each of my six grandsons and realize that it will be just the blink of an eye before they, too, are grown men.
My first son was the seventh child. Twenty years ago we didn't have ultrasounds just to determine gender. All the lovely little pink sleepers and dresses were washed and in the dresser; the bassinet was ready with beautiful white eyelet. It was a Sunday morning -- two dear friends, one the mother of five boys, and the other, a doctor's wife and mother of both boys and girls, were there in the hospital, praying with us.
Then, at 7:27 a.m. on Sunday, Aug. 7, our first son was born. It was announced from the pulpit at the 8 a.m. church service that the Beards had a boy. We had visitors very soon after and later were blessed with a huge shower. One dear friend gave us a huge plastic Tonka dump truck. That truck made every move with us and was played with by each of our three sons and then grandsons until a son-in-law and son blew it up with firecrackers this past year.
When he was about 18 months old, he had a seizure while his eldest sister (who was 10) was holding him. The doctor determined it was a febrile seizure. Then, when he was about 3, he fell off a double swing/glider and was then hit by the swing coming back over him. Again, he had a seizure. Those moments are emblazoned in my mind. It was surreal -- he was screaming, but it all seemed like slow motion. I was running to him, then rushed him to the doctor. He was fine, ultimately, but it was scary. When he was 6, he had a ruptured, gangrenous appendix. We lived an hour from the doctor and that was a long, worrisome drive by myself with him. He had surgery, then a wound infection. That entailed all the staples being pulled from the incision site, then sending him home with a hole in his side. We did wet/dry dressings for quite some time. A couple of the sisters got pretty good at helping. Now, two are nurses.
At the time I was dealing with each of those traumas, they seemed consuming. Now, the trials are bigger and those seem small.
There are hallmark moments in life -- birth, graduation, marriage, death -- that tend to make us stop and reflect on all the moments that lead to that time. When we're living through them, we don't realize their import. When we're busy with diapers, sleepless nights, toddler tantrums and all the messes that go along with rearing children, we are consumed with the "now." That's definitely one advantage of being a grandparent. One can see the big picture far more easily. Now, I realize that it's not really that big a deal that a child spills a glass of milk or throws a tantrum. What matters is our attitude toward our children, our loving acceptance and calm demeanor when correcting or teaching them. I'm sure I failed at that a lot. But, I keep repenting and trying again and again and again.
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Editor's note: Annette Beard is the managing editor of The Times of Northeast Benton County. She can be reached at [email protected].
Editorial on 11/12/2014