Opinion : What a grandpa wants...

For the first time in a very long time, we have very little new news to put on Vinton Today. And since I have written before that TV stations and newspapers should be honest enough to say, "Hey, there's nothing really that exciting going on. Get up and go do something else instead of spending the next 30 minutes here," I think we owe you the same courtesy here at Vinton Today.

But since you're here, I might as well tell you about my day.

For the past 18 months I have been savoring the new experiences of grandparenthood. I am blessed to have my granddaughters living in Vinton, where I can see them most days. I was also blessed early on to have the opportunity to babysit the first one a few days each week. That time together was a terrific bonding experience that leaves me constantly boring people with my latest granddaughter story.

Every grandparent is sure that his or hers is the cutest/smartest in the whole world, and who am I to argue. So instead of telling people how great mine are, I just tell them my stories.

Some of the stories I don't experience; I simply hear about them later. Like the times my granddaughter is at my house and I am gone and she keeps running to my desk looking for me.

So far, one of the coolest grandparenting stories in the history of mankind took place a few weeks ago.

My daughter was in a local business and a woman walked in. The lady looked at Bethany's stroller and said, "Hey! Those are Dean's granddaughters!" My daughter looked at the lady with two questions: "Who on earth are you?" and "How is it that people can already recognize an 18-month-old as the granddaughter of VT Editor Dean?"

The youngest, Arriana, is just 3 months old, and so far, she still prefers her Mommy. But Liana is at the age where she and I agree on one basic premise: Wherever I am, she should be, too.

Yesterday, that meant sitting in the street.

Before the moms and grandmothers among you start warning me about the dangers of such activities, I will explain: I was working on Liana's Daddy's truck, sitting between his pickup and mine, near the curb. Liana saw me there and came and sat on my lap. When left (towing the truck that needed fixed) she cried a little. I could almost hear her unspoken argument: "Hey! There are two trucks and lots of room. So why do I have to stay home?"

Liana is too young to understand this, but by sitting on my lap in the street, she provided for me what I think every grandfather wants. We want someone to look up to us all the time, no matter where we are or what we are doing.

We want someone who sees us sitting in the street and just assumes that 1) We know what we are doing (and that we are not crazy); and 2) What we are doing at that precise moment is more fun than anything else in the world would be, and that whatever Grandpa is doing, I should be with him.

For the past 18 months, I have been watching grandparents of all ages and stages. I have seen grandparents with elementary students, middle school students and even high school and college-age grandchildren. I've seen a World War II veteran's face light up when his granddaughter surprised him during the Honor Flight in Washington, D.C. And I have felt a twinge of sorrow when seeing grandchildren at the funeral of their grandparent.

Those of you who have been grandparents as long or longer as I have been a parent know what I am saying; only you know it much better, and in the changing contexts of loving and being loved as 18 months become 18 years or longer.

But so far, this journey is turning out to be more rewarding than I had expected. And I expected it to be very, very good.