The Joys of Four Grandchildren and the Gifts They Bring To Pop Pop

I never dreamed I would arrive at a point, where I am right now. Understanding the meaning of Christmas was something I knew was necessary, and I enjoyed giving, but I also focused on my own gifts. And there are still times, when they seem important, but they really are only things.

It is in this time of my life, that I discovered something better. Father's Day was upon us, and my wife surprised me with an incredible gift--something I've wanted for decades: a Rosetta Stone Italian Program with five levels. The thought of getting it was so exciting. There is this hope I have that I will be able to use one more language to communicate, but there is something else too. I want to return to Tuscany. And I want to have family with me. Ann has never seen it.

So my Father's Day gift this year was incredible, and it was last year too, when Ann bought me a nice Nikon camera with an extra zoom lens.

For me, the greatest gift is to be surrounded by family, whether at home or at a place that our family loves like Disneyland, it's still the same. The only advantage to having a spot away from home is that I don't feel the vacuum left after the sometimes shrill squeaks and screams of little ones fade with their absence.

But life takes unexpected turns. For Ann and me, there was a gift Jack

gave us that was impressive. I didn't cost any more than a few dollars, but the thought behind it was incredible.

So at this point in my life, it is the little ones that bring me so much peace, so much contentment. But my definition of "little ones" is ambiguous at best. To have my family here is not limited to grandchildren. Each child, each grandchild has something unique about their personality. It's the eccentricities that make the world so fun, so interesting, so pleasurable.

Our family has the market on eccentric.

It's what makes us fun. It's what makes us enjoyable, at least for those who enjoy our company. At Anna's birthday in Reno, which I couldn't get to this time, They went to this incredible steak place we found last time. At least that's what it looks like in the picture. They have this incredible bread pudding there. I didn't taste it, but I could see other fat people eating it. That's a sign you know. It's like proof of a good red-neck restaurant. If you see lots of semi-trucks in the parking lot, it's a good stop for chicken fried steak and pie.

This place, called The Claim Jumper or something like that, also has two types of chocolate cakes: one with six or seven layers of deep dark chocolate cake covered rich frosting and accessorized with who slices of walnuts on top and the sides; the second with six or seven layers of deep red velvet cake with thick frosting as well. Both are at least 10,000 calories per slice--good thing I wasn't there. Self-indulgence is one thing, but I see myself with two plates--one huge slice of each one--sitting in front of me. I smile a manic grin, a fork in each hand. Just thinking about those desserts make me feel like I gained 10 pounds.

I get the best part, seeing my soulmate clowning around with Anna and seeing Anna with an enormous blue cowboy hat. They do that at restaurants. Waiters place this big hat on your head, gather seven or eight other workers, who can't sing a note in tune, and they scream through the song Happy Birthday To You. 

I figure it's a form of classical conditioning. No customer will submit to that type of humiliation, but free dessert is still a good deal with our family, so we just grin through the song and enjoy the free calories.

It's what birthdays are about: not having to apologize for eating too much. You know. It's like love. You never have to say you're sorry. OK. I assume you saw that extremely stupid movie from the early 70's too. Whoever coined that phrase probably paid a record amount of alimony.

But when it comes to getting a free dessert, it's a luxury you can only do when you are six like my little Anna. Besides, in a wind storm, she is so skinny, she has to wear those ankle weights, just so a stiff breeze doesn't carry her into the next county.

But the best part of this trip is seeing Tommy and Anna pose in front of their new home, just before going to school. I'm envious. I would love to have been there.

But when you're a Pop Pop, and you have a grandson at home, who looks forward to a birthday party all summer, you stay for that, even if it means not seeing my other grandchildren and even if it means not eating your favorite cake and even if it means not being able to enjoy one more road trip. I would do it for any one of my four grandchildren.

But like I said, I miss not being there when Tommy and Ann went to school. They love it. That's where "me and mine" also seem different than most--we actually loved school. It is a time to learn new things, to see familiar faces, to meet new friends.

And I can't imagine my Sweetie being any different than that.  We are a family of teachers. Loving school is what we do.

Just like loving grandchildren so intensely is what you do, if you know what it means to be a grandparent. There's something about watching how they emerge from crawling infants to a little one, who suddenly shows in their eyes they recognize you. That is ultimately the joy of being a grandparent. Money and things can't buy that kind of thing.