Still Clickin

Last weekend we attended a family wedding. This wedding celebrated a member of the extended family, the son of my wife’s cousin. Because they are extended family members, we do not see them as often as we would like. But we have known them forever and truly enjoy their company whenever we do have the chance to get together.

I heard myself saying, “The last time I saw you, you were only 4 years-old.” As I said those words and saw the completely bored expression of the newly cosmopolitan teenager, I remembered the pain of hearing such lame comments when I was their age. It was now my time to utter that sentence as the younger people viewed, with some misgivings, remote members of their own family tree. We all know that they will start to cherish that tree a decade from now, but today they have other priorities.

The parents of the young children, more secure in their identities and genuinely interested in sharing family stories and memories, are a delight to spend time with and swap tales. They stand as a tribute to the love and parenting skills of the past generation, and it is a treat to observe the radiant glow of their well-earned pride and committed love that emanates from the moist eyes of these older family members.

Through the interactions, you recognize that this is what “family” means. Across the generations, the gift of love is freely shared. Any odd character traits are understood and accepted. (“Oh, that’s just Uncle Jim!”) We are free to be ourselves, to be open, to be loved.

This is the time to seize the moment and share that sweetest of gifts, forgiveness, with other family members who need it. This opportunity is especially important for the older members whose time to forgive is diminishing.

The family is the crucible where we first observe selfless love. Over the years, the family is where we are touched by love and learn to express it ourselves. It is where are hearts are formed.

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One of the delights of being a grandparent is the chance to participate in the joy of new milestones. This is a refreshing antidote to that wet blanket of boredom that can engulf older folks with the feeling of “deja vu all over again.”

The longer we assemble an experience base, the more life seems to echo with the sound of “same old, same old.” Today’s latest happening or style seems too similar, or is an exact copy, of those from yesterday which we remember all too well. Sometimes we can appreciate the skillful execution of a revival, but the plot holds nothing new. Grandchildren lift us out of that stagnation.

Two days ago, I attended my grandson’s preschool graduation event. The room was ringed with chairs filled with parents and grandparents. The four year-olds trotted in with infectious enthusiasm, each wearing a mortar board topper filled with bright lettered quips. Each was called up by their gracious teacher who gave them each special praise. They received a necklace with their name, a special ring, and a colorful certificate with lots of sparkles that proclaimed their successful completion of their last year in preschool.

The smiles around the room were contagious. The mirth and joy were genuine. The delight was real. The cupcakes and strawberries served afterwards were enthusiastically enjoyed by all.

Life goes in cycles. Before preschool, the last graduation I attended was for my daughter’s doctorate. That day was very special, but it wasn’t my first university commencement. This day, in contrast, was very different. Preschool graduations are something brand new for me. I hope I get a chance to attend many more.

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Recently, while with a group of younger friends, the conversation turned to the idea of downsizing. Apparently, downsizing has evolved from a life event worthy of consideration to an event that should be expected and assumed. Everyone in the group predicted that they would make that step one day, the only question was when.

Since we have jumped that hurdle twice and are now in half the square-footage that we had back East, we were pressed for an answer to that question. When is it the right time?

The question made me remember the response made by a sage old gentleman many years back. His answer was, “Be certain to make your move while you can still remember where the silverware drawer is.”

At first, that thought sounded strange. Then, one morning while I was standing in my own kitchen after weeks of extensive overseas travel, I went to reach for a spoon and had no idea where to look. The third drawer I tried held the prize, but the prior two made me realize how long I had been away.

So many of the little things in our lives we do on automatic pilot. That built-in knowledge base helps us to be more efficient and do many things at once. A downsizing move should be made while you can still train that auto-pilot. The transition to a new, smaller nest is never easy. But if you make it in time to adapt to a new silverware drawer, you should be able to gracefully manage all the other aspects of the transition as well.

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There is a lot of “new” in our lives. We have found a new home. This home is next to a new ocean. We have struggled and fumed, but finally prevailed, to create a new computer network. This new blog has now had 22,000 hits. And all of this easily pales by comparison to the miracle I held just a couple of hours ago. . . . . . We have a new GRANDDAUGHTER!!!!

Holding my own newly born children, and now my grandchildren, I have always felt that I am holding something that has the heft and size of a football. To think that this football is a person that will delight and intimidate me for the rest of my life is a wonder that exceeds any boundaries I can imagine.

Miracle is an apt description. This little person, whose basic composition is barely understood (10% would be excessive) by that empirical science called modern medicine, smiles at the sound of my voice. Synapses spark, eyes follow sound, and I realize that this delightful young lady has already wound me tightly around her delicate pinkie.

Miracle is also the challenge, because it pushes us beyond ourselves to a confrontation with Faith. Faith, i.e. intuitive understanding, pushes us toward the recognition of the primacy of Selfless Love. Parenthood is an iceberg that launches us out onto that sea, called Selfless Love, but it takes awhile for that berg to gently melt and for us to become one with that enveloping sea.

New granddaughters help you to trust the melt. New granddaughters help you to give yourself the sea of Selfless Love. New granddaughters teach you to be one with that sea.

Thank you, my dear grandchildren, for patiently teaching me some very basic strokes for swimming in the sea of Selfless Love. I have so much left to learn. Please be patient. I am a slow learner.

The computer is an imperfect tool. More accurately, it is an unfinished and fickle one. Stability is definitely not its forte. Periods of operating stability, although they have grown longer, are still only temporary. It is merely a matter of time before the next disruption hits. The amazing scenario in today’s society is that we entrust so much to these fickle machines.

If you’ve read this blog, you know that we have recently completed our move from the Atlantic to the Pacific. We first rented, so this was a double move. Now in our final digs, I can report that it took two days to get the furniture in place, two weeks to get the majority of the boxes unpacked, and a full MONTH to get the computer working once again. Hello Internet! It’s nice to be able to see that home page pop-up once again. Today is my first day of connectivity!

Perhaps, I should have not been so rash as to change our access from DSL to cable. That sentence says it all. The dangerous word is neither DSL nor cable. The dangerous word is “change”. Computers despise that word!

Some of you might think these are the rantings of a computer newbie. Unfortunately, I have some familiarity with these infernal devices, have coded in machine language, and have both windows and linux operating on this laptop. The true misfortune is that in a misguided effort to help, Mr. Gates’ programs continually try to contradict the choices that a user makes.

Nonetheless, it is nice to be back. I’m afraid to look at my email, at which I have only been able to peek. My web sites have languished, and my blog has received only token attention. All is forgiven, my dear Nemesis Network. I am back to comment once again.