"If nothing is going well, call your grandparents." (Anon)

.....I’m not so sure as to where this blog is going to take me today, but I am not going to dodge the challenge. There are no parents in Huntington Lakes, only grandparents, and for many years I have been admiring the warm and loving relationships I observe that my friends share with their grandchildren. They touch each other on holidays, birthdays, graduations, anniversaries, and on many another occasion that offers an opportunity for family gatherings—more often in Florida than anywhere the children and grandchildren happen to live. The reason for this, I imagine, is because many of the residents here are elderly and too frail for any lengthy traveling. They can’t wander too far away from their doctors. And that includes me.
…..Unfortunately, and blamelessly, I have not had a close relationship with my own grandchildren, who now that they are all in their 20s and pursuing their careers, have--sad to say-- become to me more like mere acquaintances. I don't know them, and I fear they don't know me. I have not had the opportunity to share their lives to any great degree as they were growing up. My son, Joel, whose work with the government took him to England, Panama, and Japan for long periods of time while raising two children, precluded my being able to see them to hold them, to kiss them, to take them places, in short--to grandparent them and to spoil them. …..Consequently, I’m not certain that they even knew what a grandparent was—except on the few occasions that we did get to see them when their parents said—“Oh, say hello to Grandpa and Grandma.”—a dictum which they obeyed, shyly and perhaps, reluctantly.
.....These days, Hannah, an NYU grad is working as a successful fashion photographer for several magazines in California, and Adam, having graduated from George Mason University, now has his own computer graphics business. We rarely hear from either of them.
…..My son, Bobby, lived in California before he moved to Virginia to sell Harley bikes. His daughter, although schooled in Virginia, remained still a California girl. Although she was warm and friendly, Rhoda and I did not get to see her very often, even though we invited her and any friend to spend her holidays with us. She never took advantage of that offer. Now, Katrina is in the Navy, stationed in Hawaii, and who knows when we will meet again. Although she professes love for us, and I have no reason not to believe her, we rarely hear from her in spite of the fact that she probably has a cell phone and access to a computer.
…..Robin, though not with children of her own, still was mother to Richard Higgins’ daughter, Chrissy, and raised her for most of her childhood days. But after her father’s death, Chrissy left Robin—and Rhoda and me, hardly ever to be seen again—the last time at the commissioning of the USS HIGGINS several years ago.
….My daughter Bonny, who owns a dog-grooming business in California has done a wonderful job with her son, Sean, who is an accomplished surfer and who earns his living in a summer camp teaching children and adults how to surf . Sean is also a talented artist who has done some wonderful paintings which eventually, no doubt, will benefit and prosper from his maturity. Sean and I have had several long phone conversations, and I have edited some of the papers he has had to write for school. But California is a long way from Florida—and Grandpa.
…..We have always remembered our grandchildren’s graduations and their birthdays with financial gifts, but written “thank you” notes were not always forthcoming. Rhoda and I never receive birthday or anniversary or Mothers’ Day or Fathers’ Day or Grandparents’ Day greetings. I never get a phone call from any of them on Veterans’ or Memorial Day to thankfully honor the fact that their existence is owed to me as the patriarch of the family. I managed to return from the war just in time to spawn their parents—who incidentally are a very loving and close knit sibling group—and that’s a blessing. I doubt, too, that any of my grandchildren have ever read my “Memoirs” or that they ever read this blog. I suppose reading is not one of the skills or interests of their generation.
…..Now, some might say, “Why don’t you call them? Why don’t you write to them?” Well, no doubt that is good advice, but motivation in this direction wanes when there is so little response. Well, my purpose in writing this blog is what the Greeks call “catharsis”. Blogging is my medium. There is no blame for this unfortunate situation…at least I’m not blaming anyone. This is just what is, and what it is, and life’s vagaries is responsible. Time to move on.