Before 1:52 p.m. on May 4, 2013 the term that best described my feelings about being a grandfather was apprehensive. Yet, when I was able to go into the birth room at Alta Bates Hospital and hold my grandson the apprehension melted away. Not only was I at ease, but joy washed over me as I cradled young Dashiel Phillips, a peace far past understanding welled within me as I first glimpsed my daughter’s son.
In the month since that moment I find myself looking forward to the photo that Kristen or David send almost daily, finding reasons to drop by the Phillips household on the way home in the evening, happy when they ask me to walk the dog and overjoyed when they ask me if I want to hold the baby. A month ago I was resistant to the idea of spending some Friday’s taking care of the little guy. Now, I think I could find a way to do it. A month ago I was convinced I could be appropriately detached. Now, I am hopelessly attached, ready to put any ideas of appropriate detachment well in the rearview mirror.
After all of a month of being a grandfather I am not qualified to offer profound insight on this new identity. I simply know that the Bible is right when it tells us that profound change can occur in a twinkling of an eye. I, and those around me, have been changed, our hearts have been enlarged, our spirits have been enlivened. I look forward to you getting to know the little guy, to watching you encourage his parents, to experiencing this new dimension of our life together.
I look forward to wearing my emotions on my sleeve. I look forward to the day when he claims his place on the steps for the children’s story, ready to answer questions to which Jesus is usually the right answer. I believe, I trust, that there are days of joy ahead.