farmdoc's blog post number 209

I’m a grandfather. Became one on 15 November 2000. Eight years ago today. And being one is one of the great joys of my life. That’s a no-brainer. But as the late Professor Julius Sumner Miller posed: ‘Why is it so?’ And of course, my answer is that I don’t know. I suspect a grand-paternal instinct is hardwired into men, or at least some men. Including me. Teleologically its objective may be the protection of the grandchild. And/or prolonging the family lineage. As for many of life’s mysteries and wonders, I’ll never understand the reason and the mechanism. But I relish the outcome. I adore being a grandfather. The feeling of two-way unconditional love bridging an age difference almost double that between parent and child. The shared joy of the grandchild reaching life milestones, and mastering new skills. The phone calls. The skits. The stories. The songs. The notes. The photographs. The drawings. The jokes. The kisses. The hugs. All so special. All so precious. Whenever I exalt in my own grandfatherhood, I remember that my father didn’t live to see any of his seven grandchildren, even though each of them carries 25% of his genes. How fortunate I am. On 15 November 2000 my life changed. Amazingly, Unbelievably. Permanently. Happy birthday, darling Indigo Ulman Eisner.