I am a grandfather. My first grandchild—grandson—was born on Thursday afternoon. This is new to me. I’m not quite certain what to think about this just yet. First and foremost, I’m over-the-moon thrilled about it, of course. How can anyone not be? Here is a brand-new life, with all the promise and potential that represents. Continuation of the family line, and all that. Pride. Joy. On the other hand, I can’t believe that I have a child who is old enough to have a child of his own. For heaven’s sake, wasn’t he just born? It seems like yesterday, anyway. And on the third hand, even though in my own head I’m still about 25 years old, when I look in the mirror I’ve stopped seeing my own dad looking back at me and I now see my grandfather’s face. So I guess it makes sense. And when I looked at my grandboy’s face for the very first time, my heart very nearly melted. It was a transformative moment in my life.
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