It has been two months since little Finnegan was born—two months since I became a grandfather for the first time. It only just occurred to me that I have said very little about this new reality, this new stage of life, this new member of our family.
I think I figured out why: I almost don’t know how to think or how to feel about him. I almost don’t know how to understand or interpret my love for him in its extent, its degree, its intensity. I am completely enamored with him. Enraptured. Besotted. Very nearly undone.
I treasure every moment we have together and take him into my arms at every available opportunity. I linger over every photograph his parents send to me. I ooh and ahh over his every infantile accomplishment, I feel pride when he does something as inconsequential as gain a couple more ounces, and I laugh with joy when he cracks even the least smile. I can’t stop staring at him when I’m with him or thinking about him when I’m not. He is an absolute wonder, a complete marvel, a source of such great pride and joy. I don’t know what’s come over me. I have been told, though, that what’s come over me is simply grandparenting, that this is what it is to meet, love, and enjoy your children’s children.
I have always known that the heart is limitless in its capacity, that it can quickly expand to make room for another person. My heart began to expand the moment Abby and Nate told us “We’re expecting.” It expanded alongside Abby’s belly as that baby grew and developed and prepared to make his appearance. And somehow it both swelled and melted in the moment I first saw him, first met him, first held my him in my arms and whispered. “I’m your grandfather and I love you so much.” My ears had heard of this but now my eyes have seen it, my heart experienced it, and my intellect begun to grasp it. And it’s amazing to behold.
There must be a spiritual dimension to this. After all, some of God’s great promises to his Old Testament people involved living to see the third generation. Clearly God knows the special blessing this represents and clearly he intended it. There must be a personal aspect too, of course—a new person to meet, know, accept, embrace, and love. And then there must be a familial dimension to it because who do we love more than our children and whose lives are we more invested in than theirs? Their celebrations are our celebrations, their accomplishments our accomplishments, their joys our joys. It has been a special joy to see Aileen’s delight in being a grandmother, Michaela’s delight in being an aunt, and Nate and Abby’s delight in being parents—not to mention the way they’ve so quickly and perfectly adapted to it. These have been such sweet and special days.
I expect (and hope) there will be more grandchildren in my family’s future. I almost don’t know how to imagine what it will be like to meet even more of these precious little ones and to welcome them into our family. But I know that even while my heart is full, it can stretch and grow. I know there is no limit to its love. And I’m just so thankful to the Lord for this special blessing.
