Old Grandpa...

 

I’m old for a first time Grandpa. 

Most people my age have multiple grandkids, many already grown. So I’m learning stuff that most of my peers have known forever.

Like the fact that a two-year-old changes, evolves substantially, every day. Visibly, yes definitely, but even more so with what comes out of his mouth, and the mystery of where he heard it.

We were sitting at the table having  lunch when Wilder told Ruth that he had a hangnail. He’s suddenly become very concerned about hangnails. Then he threw his hands in the air, palms up and asked of no one in particular: “wha you gonna do?”. That was a first, out of nowhere. At breakfast, he looked at his diced-up pancake, carefully picking up a piece and dipping it in his side cup of Maple syrup before putting it into his mouth and declaring “Man, that’s good!” Again, a first from this kid just learning how to speak in ways that other humans can even understand.

Later, after Andrew took a bite of something, he paused and said “man that’s good!” so at least we know where Wilder got that one. Unless Andrew got it from him…It’s a chicken or the egg conundrum.

Wilder and I often played Hide and Seek when I was there. He hides in plain sight, believing that if he can’t see anyone, we can’t see him. We walk around asking each other “Where’s Wilder” and agreeing that he must be lost. I changed it up and began to insist that it was actually the dog, Lilly, that was lost. Lilly was who we were looking for, and I had a pocket full of (imaginary) dog treats to feed her.

From the blanket mound, Wilder would quietly say: “dog treats” and stick a pink palm out from under the comforter where he was hidden. I swished my fingers around in his hand “Here’s the dog treats! You must be really hungry!” He would pull his hand back in to eat them all undercover as I scratched his head through the blanket “Lilly sure likes to have her head scratched!” I’d say. He would just giggle with his clever deception.

Back at home yesterday, I told Ruth that I miss them all, but Wilder I miss the most. I’ve surprised myself with just how much.

Like most old people, I decided long ago who’s who and what’s what in this world. When you’re two years old, that stuff is all new, and the possibilities are endless.

I find it charming and enviable. Artists spend entire careers trying to get back to that place.

Then, when you’re really old, you do return. Like my dad, a highly educated man, said to me when he was in his late 80’s: “ You know, Hugh, the older I’ve gotten, the more I realize that I know nothing at all.”

I’m starting to agree. 

Just throw a blanket over my head and I’ll be happy.