I never nagged my children to have children. I told friends it didn’t matter, that there was no need for my genes to be passed on — in the grand scheme of things, I felt it didn’t matter and I meant it. Not for the first time — I was mistaken.
I was smitten
There is something about being a grandparent. How can I explain it? It’s like a magical chain that pulls you to a brand new baby born to your very own children. I looked at that little bundle and was smitten. That’s all it took. Who would’ve thunk it?
My lucky grandson is well-loved. He is also being raised well by his parents, who are doing a far better job than I ever did — which is an additional plus.
However, one of the unexpected pleasures I’ve derived is
Rafi could sure hit that baseball
revisiting the memories of raising his dad, who was a smiling little one who rapidly grew into the kid who could hit that baseball all the way to Century City. (According to his coach.) Looking back at Rafi as a toddler and little boy made me love his son, Remy, even more.
How intriguing it is to have a grandchild. Genetics which skipped a generation showed up. My grandson inherited my teeth! His dentist calls them “sharks’ teeth”. My own adult teeth grew in behind, beside and in front of my baby teeth, which never fell out on their own, requiring braces to straighten out the mess that ensued.
Sharks’ teeth
I apologized to Remy for this. Wearing braces is no fun, and since his parents take good care of him, he’s had each baby tooth extracted when another threatens to come through, which I’m sure is no pleasure either. I’m truly sorry he experiences discomfort because of me — but he does so bravely and without complaint.
Still, I like to imagine that one day, long after I’m gone, Remy will perhaps be telling a grandchild of his own that he inherited my teeth, and his grandchild inherited them from him. Who knows, these shark teeth may continue for generations to come. (The good thing about mine is the roots are so deep I’ve been told they’ll never fall out — so far, they haven’t.)
I hope Remy reads “Don Quixote”. I loved it.
Besides my bothersome teeth, Remy seems to have inherited my love of reading. Hurrah! I hope he derives as much pleasure from this pastime as I have throughout my life.
Here’s to you Remy!
View from Over the Hill 
The willingness to stay alive and be excited about it and never saying never to more of it. Always entertaining.
How kind of you Dusty. All the best and thanks for reading.
Well, I don’t know if nephews can inherit traits from their aunties, but when Remy came to visit me recently, he bonded — amazingly and instantly — with my wild mustang stallion, Ranger. Ranger had never been touched by a child before, and Remy is a city kid with no knowledge of horses. Nonetheless, Ranger loved him, and the feeling was mutual. I like to think I somehow passed on a “Horse Whisperer” gene to him!
I think you must have Susan — and I’m glad of it. Love ya, Maughm
I agree, Muriel, sharing our lives with grandchildren really is a magical experience, and I think it goes both ways…they love and appreciate us, too!
Who would have imagined???
I enjoyed the blog post even though my genes stop with me.
Lets face it Judy: No kid could compete. Just as well. You bring so much into our lives. Love ya, Muriel
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Fine with your permission let me to grab your RSS
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Gosh Mover: My kids say I’m somewhat lacking in computer skills, but I manage this blog which my daughter, Susan, set up for me, so I don’t even know what an RSS is!
I’ll see if I can get in touch with you so you can follow my blog. I’d love that. All the best.
Muriel