Grandpa Love. . .

An article in Readers' Digest argued the importance of fathers. Children learn to play from fathers. The rough and tumble of father-play teaches children to face and handle the world. Hmmm, you say. Think of it. Who throws the children up in the air until they touch the ceiling and who tells them to stop because they're going to frighten the children. Who chases the children around the room on all fours growling and snorting and whose is the "free space" lap the children run to squealing with delight and some wide-eyed apprehension. Fathers and mothers are a great balance.

One of our children's joys was doing "tricks" with their dad-Eric would lay on the floor, the kids would run from the entry, leap the step down to the frontroom, and in full speed jump onto his legs. Then up and over his head he'd flip them. They'd stumble back up to their feet and dash back into line for another turn. Or he'd put them on his shoulders or . . . It could go on for hours.

But fatherhood doesn't end with your own children. Grandpas make some of the best kinds of fathers- still playful but a bit more indulgent (and maybe a bit less inhibited by that point).

When we'd visit Grandpa Miles he would give us each a nickel and let us walk up to the corner store. You could get two pieces of candy for a penny in those days. Grandpa Passey would bend forward and interlocking his fingers create a swing for us. He'd swing us side to side while singing to us. I remember the day he told me I was too big for him to swing me anymore-I still cry if I think about it too long. Grandpa was too old to swing my children but he'd take them for rides in his wheelbarrow or let them pick little yellow pear tomatoes that he grew for them.

I hadn't thought of it until writing this post, but my grandchildren can thank their great-great grandfather that I've filled my yard with fruits for them to pick and eat.

My dad would put us kids up on closet shelves where no one could find us (I absolutely loved it). He was still putting my kids 'up' years later. And my grandkids can thank him that I put them 'up' into my kitchen bay window.

Eric's dad loved the outdoors and shared that love with Eric and then our children.

Eric carried on the tradition.

Eric and I were together with some of our 'grands' and their little friends today. As soon as we arrived, up on the shoulders they went.


When the kids finally wore down, Eric started a song "I know a boy whose name is Jaydo . . ." By the time he had finished a verse about each one of them they were all calling him 'grandpa'.

Eric is a fantastic father to our children and grandchildren just like his father was. But I hadn't realized how much of my grandparenting has come from my father and grandfathers; how much of their fun ways I have passed on. Fathers in any variety, at any age or stage of life are a wonderful thing. I'm thinking this is one lucky little guy, 'cause he's got lifetimes of 'grandpa love' behind him and ahead of him.