Forefathers

As I sit here and write this, our wonderful first grandchild, Joshua, is boarding a bus to travel to summer camp. I am confident that he will have a fantastic time. He already knows a few boys who are attending, and he is an outgoing and fun kid who will certainly keep the other boys laughing and make lots of new friends.

But my jubilation for him this morning is almost assuredly not quite what his parents are feeling. I remember all too well the summer of 1988, when both Simmie and Dina, at 11 and 9 years of age, went to camp for the first time, suddenly leaving us childless for four weeks. We were living in Sharon and the camp was in New Hampshire just a few hours away, so we drove them up to camp. Barry and I sat in the car all the way back home without uttering a word. What could we have been thinking sending our two babies away? But soon we settled back in, and to be honest, by the time the month was over we were enjoying ourselves and even joked about signing them up for the second month.

Of course that experience paled next to what was to come a few years later in 1995 when Simmie left to spend the year after graduating from high school in Israel. In the weeks before her departure, Dina spent a lot of time grousing about all the attention being showered on her sister. Despite her threats to stay home, she did join us to see Simmie off at the airport. I have two very strong memories from that morning. I remember watching Simmie walk away, literally with a spring in her step, and feeling so happy that our little premie had reached this point and was ready to fly (literally and figuratively). But this feeling was quickly shadowed by a sobbing and inconsolable younger sister. Barry and I had to escort the poor girl out of the terminal, and I cannot help but wonder if nowadays someone would have summoned authorities.

Now here is Dina, seeing her own child taking those first steps to what we hope will be a wonderful and independent life. She may not realize this but I certainly do know how she is feeling. I wish I could put the video on fast forward for just a moment so she could see how well it all turns out, and how as a grandmother it is nothing but an incredibly happy occasion to see Joshua reaching this milestone.

  

This morning I had to listen to an old Dan Fogelberg song

And the sons become the fathers,

And the daughters will be wives,

As the torch is passed from hand to hand

And we struggle through our lives.

Though the generations wander

The lineage survives,

And all of us from dust to dust,

We all become forefathers by and by.

Have a great summer, big boy!

Love,

Rebecca (aka Nana)