Parenting vs. grandparenting

This past year, I turned 70 and my children planned an extensive celebration that witnessed them all spending a week together with us at my daughter’s home in Minnesota. Lots of laughter, games, hikes and silliness occurred that week and it is indelibly etched in my memory as something that every time I revisit, I find a broad smile breaking across my countenance.

Among the various gifts I received was one that was quite special. The kids had arranged for me to have a four-hour session in a professional recording studio. Over the years, I’ve written any number of songs including a special song for each of my children and grandchildren, and my daughter thought it was important that these songs get recorded.

Now I have to admit that

I did have a moment’s pause thinking, “I’ll bet she’s afraid that I’m going to go to the great beyond any day now, and the kids’ songs will be relegated to the best of their recollections.” When I asked her about this she said, with a twinkle in her eye, “Oh no, Dad, I hadn’t even thought of that.” Yeah right!

Nonetheless, I thoroughly enjoyed recording a number of my songs. Perhaps my favorite was one that all four of the grandchildren performed with me. There’s a story to this particular song that I’d like to share.

When Katherine, my oldest granddaughter, was three years old, her mother and father were attending a medical conference, and needed child care. They flew to Denver and my son-in-law’s parents met them at the plane, and took Katherine to their home in Loveland.

A day later, Myra and I drove to Loveland to pick Katherine up and bring her to the farm. When we picked her up, she was excited to see us, but I could tell that she was also having a little bit of difficulty adjusting to her first time away from her mother and father.

We played, “I spy with my little eye” and several other goofy games on the two-hour ride home, which kept her occupied and mostly engaged, though I could see she was getting a bit weary.

As we neared the farm, I noted that Katherine had taken off her shoes. For those of us that live on the plains, we are painfully aware of the presence of goat-head stickers and sandburs, so I looked back at Katherine and said, “Hey Sweetie, you probably should put your shoes back on.”

She responded, “I don’t want to put my shoes back on.”

I said again, “There are stickers and sandburs and I really think you will want your shoes on.”

She responded again, “I don’t want to put my shoes back on.”

My instinctual response would have been, “Look, you need to put your shoes on now,” but in my advanced age and role as grandparent, I’ve become quite intentional about how I relate to my grandchildren.

I could tell that Katherine was struggling with being away from her parents, with the transition from grandparent to grandparent, and was tiring from the two-hour car ride. I knew that a kind and supportive response was essential, and then it hit me.

I said, “Hey Katherine, I just loved the rhythm of your reply. You said, ‘I don’t want to put my shoes back on,’ and it occurred to me that this was a perfect line for a song we could write together. How about when we get home, I grab the guitar and you and I will go sit on the patio and see if we can write a song about not putting our shoes back on.”

She giggled and said that she would like to do that. Moment later, as we were pulling into the drive, I noted that she had indeed put her shoes on, and soon we were laughing together as we composed the “Shoes Back On” song. Five verses in all with a chorus that will stick in your head FOREVER!

In the ensuing years, this song has become a family favorite, and because it is incredibly simple, it is quite easy to learn, so when I had the opportunity to record my music, I asked if the grandchildren would want to record this one with me.

They were all willing to do so, and each one sang a verse, and all joined in the rousing chorus, and as the song ended, laughter broke out. The recording engineer was so taken by the joyous nature of the song that he let the tape roll a bit longer and you can hear the

children laughing at the end.

My sister, Louise, is the pastor of the Central Presbyterian Church in Denver. She recently asked for the words of this song and sang part of it as a sermon illustration about the difference between “parenting” and “grandparenting.” Although I didn’t hear the sermon, I suspect her point was that as we get older, we become more aware of what really matters, we pick our battles more carefully, and our love is less ego driven and more “pure.”

If I could go back in time and be a parent to my children again, knowing what I know now, I would be more patient. I would pick fewer battles. I would make sure that joy and laughter were the loudest voices in our home.

And I would remember these words from a hundred year old poem, “Don’t make tragedies of trifles/don’t shoot butterflies with rifles…/if it’s sanity you’re after/there’s no remedy like laughter/ laugh it off.”

It is certainly easier as a grandparent to practice this sort of gentle kindness, but I suspect the world would be a much better place if we could embrace the notion of what “Shoes Back On” really means: less rancor, more acceptance, less judgment, and a jingle that puts a giggle in our hearts.