Waiting for a case of the ‘gramps’

The phone call that worries you most comes in the middle of the night … or as early as late in the evening – any time after you go to sleep. When you’re shocked out of a snoring slumber, you have the same thought that something has happened to your children – provided you HAVE children.
I always fear the same thing – hearing the words, “Mr. Bloom, we hate to tell you this, but … ” It is every parent’s worse nightmare.
But there is ONE phone call that I eagerly await – no matter what time of day it comes. Even if I am sound asleep, and my wife, Jodie, answers, uttering a few inaudible complaints and rolling over to say, “It’s for you,” I want to take the call.
Hopefully, it will be Amanda (my son, Robert’s wife) and she will say, “We thought you should know,” she will explain. “You’re going to be a grandfather.” Hopefully it will be followed by a tearful, cheerful giggle.
The call happened once before and my initial reaction was, “Chuck, you’re right. Nothing good can come with a phone call in the middle of the night.” But instantly, a sense of euphoria swept over me. Amanda was about to be a mother, Robert was going to be a father and I, the most unlikely of candidates, would become something I had always dreamed of being – a grandfather.
Unfortunately, things did not work out back then. It wasn’t meant to be … that time. Robert had sworn to me that he and Amanda would wait until she had gotten a job as a high school drama-theater teacher before starting a family. He also works and if “baby makes three,” everybody’s life is gonna change ... dramatically.
Can any set of new parents-to-be can be TRULY prepared? I tried on my end for a few weeks, rolling certain words around in my head to see which one would fit best - grandfather, granddad, grandpops, grandpa, poppy, opa.
I hold a special place in my heart for grandparents, especially grandfathers for a personal reason. I never had any as a child. Both of my parents’ fathers died before they were married. I never got the benefit of their experiences, their wisdom, their love or their nurturing.
My grandmothers lived until I got to college, but it wasn’t the same. They were Sunday night dinners, canasta games and that certain grandmotherly smell (the almond scent of Jergens lotion). They provided money for me to buy toys and visiting their apartments meant swimming or meeting former baseball players who lived down the hall.
Otherwise, it seemed that they exist to aggravate, in some sense, their own children. I was told stories about my grandfathers, but they had no relevance for me.
Unfortunately, my own children have suffered in a similar manner. My late father only saw his grandson twice in his lifetime and never, regretfully, saw his two granddaughters before his death. Dad always had some cockamamie tale about his failing health preventing him from playing with them. But they didn’t need him to be a playmate; they needed a mentor.
If am elderly man or woman can physically keep up with the incredible energy of a child, then a tip of the cap to them. However, all their knowledge and experience needs to be sent along the river of life. Oral history needs to be preserved in order to learn about the future, from what occurred in the past.
In modern times, both parents often must spend a significant portion of the day as wage earners, so caring grandparents can often fill the nurturing gap. All of it will benefit and positively influence our children.
I also worried that I was too young to earn the grandparent label. Nope, my driver’s license says I am 52 and while going to see U2 in concert still gets me jazzed, there is far more gray in my beard than any other color.
I’ll be ready. I’ll be pumped. I’ll be the Grandfather Man for the World Tomorrow.
So I can’t wait until the phone rings to announce the start of Amanda’s adventure. In fact, that call DID take place last week; she’s two months along and now we all hold our collective breath hoping that this time it will go full-term. I’ve given myself until month six before I invade Babys ‘R Us.
I’ll be there for Robert and Amanda and start my grandfatherly duty of spoiling this kid rotten from the opening moment of baby Bloom’s life.
Just try to stop me.