November 13: On November 4, Marisa delivered 2 beautiful twin girls; Naomi Maya and Jaia Camille were each about 6 and a half pounds. With their arrival, I crossed another chronological watershed- like turning 50 – that tends to define our stage in life: I became a grandfather. That this is a life-changing event for her is without doubt, but this is my site and so for now, it’s all about me.
Part of my discomfort with my new label is that my own grandfathers seemed to be ancient. On my Father’s side, Grandpa was the epitome of the dour Scotsman; aloof and reserved, he sat in a chair and said little when we visited him and Grandma in their apartment on Sherbourne Street. If you got close enough he would mutter something and slip you a handful of Scotch Mints from his vest pocket. They remind me of him to this day. He had been a machinist for CN and I remember being fascinated by the fact that he had lost part of an index finger, presumably to an industrial accident. Since my own Father was the youngest in the family, Grandpa seemed to me to be very old. He died aged 78 when I was still in elementary school; Grandma lived to 86.
My Mother’s Father was relatively young. More active and fit than Grandpa, he played a bigger role in my life. I was fortunate enough to spend time at the cottage with him and Nana, when they were alive and after they passed. He let me use his workshop and taught me how to properly use a few tools. He taught me how to run an outboard boat, although I often suspected this was a way of getting me to run to town so that he could stay at the cottage. He set a foundation and an example for our family that endures to this day. Still, he seemed incredibly old, even though he died only three years older than I am today.
And of course there is my own Father who was Poppa to my Sister’s children. Dad played soccer in high school and golf throughout most of his adult life so he was relatively spry. He was in good health until his last few years and he participated with his grandchildren more actively than either of my grandfathers. I was able to travel with him and Mum and some of the grandchildren several times, including a couple of weeks in the southern US playing golf. These were wonderful memories and he has left large shoes to fill as a Grandfather.
So now I find myself crossing that invisible barrier into geezer-dom understanding that I too will be seen as that incredibly old guy who sits in the corner and surreptitiously hands out treats – monetary or otherwise – all the while muttering about things that are largely irrelevant to the kids. The strange thing is: I’m kind of looking forward to it…….