Grandfatherhood

Grandfatherhood is definitely a milestone. A bridge crossed. With the birth of Jansen Jerome Reyers to Kent and Mariah, a new chapter is initiated, with a new role for me and a reformed relationship with family members. No longer do I supervise the next generation. Instead, I get to observe their supervision of their next generation. And I'm now married to a Grandmother. Wow, how did THAT happen?


Don't get me wrong. There is no hesitation or regret that goes along with this transformation. Just a tinge of bewilderment. In some respects, it's going back in time, with the discovery and anticipation that comes with seeing a new life brought into this world, but without the effort or worry or nervousness. There's still that initial uncertainty in how to hold such a fragile creature the right way, and what to do when it protests or creates disconcerting smells. Fortunately, mother Mariah was right there to guide and advise me. What's curious to me is how the new Grandmother I'm now married to has no such uncertainty. She eagerly accepts cuddling, feeding or cleaning duty and doesn't miss a beat, as though this were just number four added to our three children. But like me, she gets to go home to a quiet rest without interruption, instead of waking every couple of hours to address an infant need.


What's fun to recognize is that this is now the fourth generation of the Reyers clan, and that representatives of all generations can be found in the same Stillwater area. We're waiting for the oldest generation to get over their colds before documenting the image for posterity.

It's also a wonder to consider the different circumstances between the first and fourth generations. The eldest Reyers was born two months pre-mature on the other side of the world, in a simple hospital in the small town of Bindjai, north Sumatra, Indonesia, near the tobacco plantation that employed his father. No power was available at their home built on poles, which kept the monsoon waters and animals out, and absorbed the shake of frequent earthquakes. The time it took to notify family of the arrival of their newborn was measured in weeks as letters traveled by boat several thousand miles. Pictures took even longer, as they were created deliberately and sparingly.

Contrast that with the  transporter seat that cocoons modern day infants against weather and impact on the short trip from hospital to warm, comfortable home with lights and flushing toilets. Not to mention the multiple cell phones that keep everyone up to the minute with every movement and facial expression through instant photo's and text messages.

As a modern day grandfather I get to see my grandchild multiple times in a week, and hold him and oogle for as long as allowed by his tolerant and patient parents. Roeland's grandparents had to wait many months, following travel that took weeks, and then only for a short period before another long separation.

I'm grateful for our times and the technologies that allow that kind of connectivity, especially as a doting grandfather.