The “Grandfather Affliction”

“Perfect love sometimes does not come until the first grandchild.”  

Welsh Proverb

I believe that almost all men who become grandfathers will, sooner or later, come down with an affliction that I term “avus paternus empathia,” or the empathy of a grandfather. 

The definition of empathy is “the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.”  In the case of a grandfather as related to his grandchildren, empathy takes over and consumes his ability to think logically and is transformed into an incurable affliction that lasts a lifetime.

This was the case on a Sunday afternoon in March of 2002 as was written in my journal below.

It sad when you can’t heal the disappointments of grandkids. They are vulnerable, naïve, and innocent especially when they are young, and they expect grandparent to make everything work. Kids envision success and joy, when even the grandparent knows that reality doesn’t always match up with dreams. Even with small dreams on a Sunday afternoon. 

I knew right away this was not a good idea.  But on a Sunday in May with several active grandkids looking for something different than being in the house watching movies or coloring yet another book, it seemed like a decent diversion.  Addee came up with the idea of having a “juice stand” and the others – Evan, Mattie, and Kennedy – jumped on it right away.

The weather outside was ok: 45 degrees, sunny, and a bit windy.  Our house location, on the corner, would see a fair amount of traffic, almost all of it in cars.  My reservation was that pedestrian traffic would be more likely to yield customers, but not many people would be walking today.

Regardless, the decision was made, and I was a special assistant in charge of carrying the kids’ plastic picnic table to the sidewalk and helping to secure the “Juice for 2 Cents” sign to the table.

With much initial enthusiasm, the kids poured juice into Dixie cups and set them on the table, with a bowl for the money they would soon bring in.  Cars sporadically passed by and the kids waited silently.  Pretty soon, Kennedy discovered a broken yo-yo in the grass and was soon diverted to a new activity of swinging it in circles. Mattie noticed that the driveway had only concrete and would be better served if it had handfuls of pebbles on it. Evan saw that silence didn’t work in enticing customers, so he started to vocally and demonstrably invite drivers to stop.

All the while, Addee sat still with her back to me, expecting cars to stop, sipping some of the juice, her little bandanna flapping back and forth, while I sat on the front porch observing it all.

It didn’t take long for Evan to get discouraged, even though the little neighbor girl crossed the street and stood next to the stand, more eager for companionship than for something to drink.  Although her mother did come over and put a few coins in the bowl, Evan didn’t see much potential for all the work.  He finally said, “People just aren’t going to stop.”  Addee responded that Evan wasn’t being very patient.

Finally, all the other kids had abandoned Addee, who was still sitting, bandanna flipping back and forth.

I was ready to walk down the street and offer money to any drivers who would stop at the stand.  My heart hurt for her. If only one car had stopped, she would have been felt success. 

At long last, even Addee decided enough was enough.  Not only were there few customers – and – maybe more importantly – her mom and dad hadn’t returned from their shopping trip.  She had wanted them to see her juice stand and the fine work she did on the sign.

I helped her put things away, clean up some spilled juice, and downed a bit myself.

It will be difficult for me to ever pass by a stand that is staffed by little kids. It will make their day if even one car stops and spends 2 cents. It will make their young dream come true.

Empathy is being a grandparent.  I remain in the deadly grips of “avus paternus empathia,” and am a better, more complete human being as a result.

“Children are the rainbow of life. Grandchildren are the pot of gold.”      

Irish Blessing