Springtime Grandfather

It has not been a difficult winter, but all the same, I’m anxious for spring. Spring makes everything come alive again. The old becomes new. It’s such a beautiful time of year.

I’ve recently had the opportunity to watch my husband rejuvenate, to step back into the spring of life. Our first grandchild was born in December, and it has been a blessing to observe my husband once again at play. The last time we babysat, he was lying on the floor with Chloë and showing her some of her toys. It didn’t matter that these toys made sound on their own, my husband was playing master of creating sound effects. The baby’s huge grin gave him all the more reason to continue his entertainment.

After he went through his repertoire of sound effects, he began singing. Now, my husband doesn’t sing just any old songs. He’s known in the family for his creativity with lyrics. I heard him singing that night about beautiful Chloë, the best princess. The more she smiled, the more he sang.

Then he scooped her up into his arms, kissed her cheeks, and gazed at her with such loving eyes. The memories of those scenes with our two children came flooding back. My husband, father of our children, is now a doting grandfather, and he is quick to recall those skills that he once used.

He helps with Chloë’s bath and her feedings. He reads her bedtime stories. He even sat with her for quite some time watching Sesame Street. My little boy was as enthralled as my little granddaughter!

He’s got that spark in his eyes whenever he mentions Miss Chloë to people. “She’s so advanced,” he’ll gush. He carries pictures of her with him so that he can show anyone he happens to meet on the street his beautiful granddaughter.

His step is lighter, he’s playful and laughing. I see in him all of the wonderful qualities that I saw when we were much younger. He’s the boyfriend who used to help me when I was babysitting during our college years. He’s the young father who wanted to play an active role in the raising of his children. He’s the little boy at play.

He is again the wonderful “young” man that I fell in love with over thirty years ago. When I catch him in childish behavior, I always get the promise that he’ll grow up…”one day.” But I love the boy. I love his crazy playfulness, the spark in his eye, this “springtime” in life.

But as I reflect on spring, I am suddenly reminded that the mulch will be delivered soon. There’s work to be done. Methinks that upon mentioning yard work, the “springtime” husband will suddenly retreat into winter. The old back, you know. And he’s not as young as he once was! Ah, spring!