As is true with a lot of things in life, it takes years to gain experience as a grandparent. I wouldn’t call myself an expert yet, but I now have more than a decade under my belt and I am beginning to feel very comfortable in the role. Among the joys of being a grandpa is the fun of having long conversations with our children’s children. They offer perspective that I need to remember what is most important in life. They teach me a great deal about childhood and growing up that I missed when I was growing up and continued to miss when their parents were children. I was so busy in those days that I guess I didn’t take the time to listen fully. Whatever the reason, talking with grandchildren is one of the great joys of my life at this stage.

One of our granddaughters is really good with colors. I’ve never been that way. I say I’m an eight crayon color person. I have names for about eight colors and I don’t know all of the subtle distinctions between the colors in-between. I get red, blue, and yellow. I even understand green, orange, and purple. I can even conceptualize yellow orange. But I’m no good at the distinction between jungle green and mountain meadow. I can make out the distinction between pine green and electric lime, but screaming green and inchworm are colors that I can’t consistently identify. Our granddaughter, however, knows the difference between midnight blue and indigo. She can distinguish between sky blue, aquamarine, turquoise blue, and cornflower. She even knows the difference between salmon and pink sherbet, neither of which are wild strawberry. It is fascinating to talk with her about colors, even when I don’t always see the distinctions. When our daughter was a teenager she was quite the fashion critic, but I’m pretty sure our granddaughter is going to be much more so.

The other granddaughter is more observant of detail that I have ever been. She noticed a group of ants carrying off the carcass of a bumble bee on the sidewalk. I hadn’t even noticed the ants. She shows me where the ground bees swarm at the base of the Jerusalem artichokes out by the chicken coop. She knows where all of the different flowers on the farm are growing - the wildflowers as well as those that have been planted. She loves being outside a lot more than being inside. Taking a walk with her involves a fair amount of running to keep up. When a chicken lays an egg outside of a nesting box, she’s the one who will find it. Sometimes she thinks I’m a bit silly because I overlook things that to her are very obvious. “Grandpa, there are a lot of bunnies in the blackberries. They just don’t come out in the day.”

Our middle grandson is an expert in all of the characters of the Toy Story movies. I know about Buzz and Woody and Jessie. I recognize Mr. Potato Head and Slinky. And I even know about Forky, who is not Sporky, which is what I called him for quite a while. But I haven’t watched Toy Story 4 and I didn’t know Duke Caboom, Gabby Gabby, Giggle McDimples or Bitey White, until I was informed by our grandson. He is another one who prefers to be in motion when we talk. When we visit over Skype or FaceTime, he runs in and out of the camera range and sometimes is talking from what seems like a long way away. I know my hearing isn’t what it once was, and he tests the limits of it both directions. I sometimes miss words when he is too soft or too loud, and I’ve experienced both plenty of times.

The oldest of our grandchildren is definitely pre-teen. I think being eleven in this day and age is very different than it was when I was that age. He is much more aware of current affairs, politics and issues than I was. He knows that the climate crisis is caused in part by the overconsumption of previous generations. He pays attention when we talk about floods in Pakistan or Jackson, Mississippi running out of water in their municipal system. Still, he likes to play Lego, something his grandfather enjoys and we have just formed a new partnership to purchase a remote controlled model airplane. I suspect there will be many more airplane partnerships in our future.

I was having quite a conversation with our youngest grandson yesterday evening. The older kids were complaining a bit about having to get ready for bed early. Today is the first day of school for them, but the youngest is too young to go to school. At just under seven months old, he can’t even talk, which makes him a very good conversation partner for grandpa. I suspect he thinks he is making words when he makes sounds. He also may be aware that my hearing isn’t as good as his. At least he giggles when I try to imitate the sounds he makes. I’m the only adult in his immediate circle with a beard, and he is fascinated with it. It isn’t long enough for him to grab and pull, but he likes to run his fingers through it. It makes me different from all of the other people in his world, so he stares at me and tries to figure me out. Last night he was starting to get a little bit sleepy after he got into his pajamas. At his age, I can’t always tell the difference between pajamas and what he wears in the day, but I knew he had pajamas because it was after dinner and getting dark outside and his mother had just changed his outfit. The other kids were going through their bedtime routine, so he was left to take care of grandpa for a while so grandma could discuss back to school clothes with the granddaughters. He did an excellent job of keeping me entertained.

It is clear that I still have a lot to learn about being a grandpa, but I have excellent and very patient teachers.