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M AY 2 0 1 4 — WA S H I N G T O N B E A C O N
An airplane conversation to remember Some pregnant women look as if they’ve could wrap all the way around her middle. swallowed a bowling ball. Others look as if The poor thing was obviously nearing they’ve been blown up with air Month Nine, and obviously in from head to toe, hugely and misery. It was a wonder they proportionally, like one of those had allowed her aboard. toys you punch and it pops back She tossed. She turned. up. She shifted. She shifted And then there was the again. Having been male for woman beside me on a recent quite some time, I couldn’t plane trip. offer much in the way of diShe gave hu-normous new rect experience. But I did meaning. offer sympathy. She looked as if a bowling “Thanks,” she said, as we HOW I SEE IT ball and a punch-it doll had trundled out to the runway. By Bob Levey held a board of directors meet“I’ll take sympathy any day.” ing and decided to merge. I was all set to bury myself in my book We’re talking almost too big for the seat. and leave her alone when she said: “I just She needed an extension so that her seat belt wish my Dad were here to see this.”
WB514
Thus began a two-hour discussion about grandfathers. Her about-to-be born child would never meet one of his. The pregnant woman’s father had died suddenly the week before, at age 70. “I know this will be my baby — mine and my husband’s,” the woman said, as we sliced through the clouds. “But I wanted so badly to see my Dad see my baby. And now I won’t.” She tossed. She turned. She started to cry. “Look,” I said, “it’s absolutely none of my business, but you’re not in the trophy-making business. You‘re in the person-making business. Years from now, your baby will ask about his grandfather….” “Her grandfather.” “Ok, sorry, her grandfather, and that’s when you can make him come alive again.” I told her how it had gone with our own two children. “They were mildly curious over the years about the photos that show them as newborns, being held by various grandparents, all now dead. But what they really wanted to know is who those people were. So it’s about keeping family history alive, and that’s your job.” The woman wasn’t sold. “We always had family albums when I was growing up, and we always liked to look back at all the phases. I had just gone and bought a new camera, too, for the recovery room. This is so hard. ” Again, I dug back into the vault for my own experience. I told the woman about my two grandfathers. Neither would have won a congeniality contest. “Some of this might have been generational,” I said. “After all, my grandfathers were both born in the 19th century, when men didn’t get too outwardly emotional about anything, and babies were raised by women. Still, beyond those pictures of them holding the newest newborn cutiepie, my grandfathers didn’t have a close relationship with me at all.” The woman mulled this. She said it was true that her father hadn’t been a very expressive person. It was also true that he tended to view baby-raising as “women’s work.” She asked about my own grandchildren. “None yet. But I’ve seen lots of men of my generation become grandparents, and it has been an uncomfortable role for them, even though it’s the modern era.
“They don’t quite know how to approach it. Should they be alternate grandmas, helping with diapers and meals? Should they be cheerleaders? Should they be car pool drivers? Should they be none of the above? I don’t know a single grandpa who finds any of this easy.” The woman said that her situation was especially poignant, because she’s an only child and her about-to-be-born would be the first grandchild in the family. “My little girl would have been the center of his world,” she said. “She still will be,” I said. “She will not only carry his DNA, but over the years, you will notice little stuff that will make the link obvious. Not just the color of her eyes and that sort of thing. Maybe facial tics. Maybe the way she frowns. “I’m not trying to deny that you’re in a tough place,” I continued. “But ten years from now, when your daughter holds her fork the same way your father held his, it’ll make you smile.” The woman had one more concern: How to keep Grandpa’s spirit alive. Any advice from the guy with the white hair in seat 18C? “You can always put lots of pictures around your home,” I said. “As your girl gets older, you can visit where he used to live, and maybe where he used to work. Maybe he has left you some personal items that you can pass on to your daughter — maybe a wallet or a watch, something like that.” She shook her head from side to side. “Well, then, you’ll be the chief storyteller. It’ll all be up to you. Be truthful, but be funny. Maybe he had a silly habit, or there’s a famous family story of how he melted down at Disney World, something like that?” She nodded her head up and down. Her eyes told me that she was taking mental notes. The flight attendant asked us to put up our drop-down trays. We were almost in Texas. It was time for last thoughts. Mine: “You will never forget him, and through you, your daughter never will, either.” Hers: “Thank you. It might not turn out to be as easy as you say. But it won’t be as hard as it would have been.” Bob Levey is a national award-winning columnist.
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DC SENIOR GAMES
The DC Senior Games is a yearly competition that brings together seniors from across the District to participate in athletic activities, while promoting healthy living for a longer, more robust life. More than 80 athletes competed in the 2013 DC Senior Games. Each year, the DC Senior Games feature activities like swimming, basketball, bowling, tennis, track and field, horseshoe toss, archery and softball. The DC Senior Games opening ceremony will take place on Monday, May 5 at 10 a.m. at the Howard Theatre, located at 620 T St. NW, Washington, D.C. The closing ceremony will take place at the Howard Theatre on Monday, May 19. For additional information or how to volunteer, call (202) 664-7153.