Being A Grandfather

Sometime this evening my granddaughter is coming to my house to spend the night. She is coming over so the two of us can participate in the Alzheimer’s Memory Walk at Waterfront Park tomorrow morning. My father died several years ago and he lived the last five years of his life with Alzheimer’s. Participation in this annual Memory Walk has become a family ritual for my siblings and me, along with many other members of our extended family. I love when Chloe and I do things together. We have a special bond that has existed since she was born. I am her favorite person and she is mine. As a father and as a grandfather, I have been a man who was actively involved in the rearing of my sons and who is currently active in the life of my granddaughter. I can still remember Chloe being only a few weeks old. On one sleepless night I remember rocking her in my chair at 5:30 AM while we both watched CNN news. Now she is eight years old and growing up faster than I want her to do. Like with most people it seems like she has always been who and what she is right now. I love to answer her questions and have conversations with her. She’s probably the only kid in her class who knows who Jerry Garcia, the Dalai Lama, and the Buddha are. If you ask her my favorite color she will reply “tie dye”. She usually sleeps in one of my tie dyed tee shirts. Whenever we are driving around in my car we jam to Michael Jackson. She’s creative and artistic but hates math. Tomorrow we’ll get up early, probably grab some coffee, orange juice, a few sausage McMuffins, and maybe a hash brown or two. We’ll meet up with the rest of the family at the park and do the walk. On the way there and back, we’ll be grooving to “Beat It”, “Billie Jean”, “Thriller”, “Bad”, “Black and White”, and “Smooth Criminal”. After I give her back to her Dad, Paw Paw will be taking a nap!