Helping Stars Shine

Grandchildren are all considered stars of the family. They should be. No child should enter a world where they’re not treated as something very special – a blessing. Sadly, we’re too often reminded of unwanted and unloved children. Innocent beings who deserve security, love and admiration, but instead are dealt cruelty. Lives that over time grow dimmer and dimmer.

On August 8th, 2007 a star was born into our family. Max Ry McAlister entered the spotlight by taking center stage. Max is special, but it’s not surprising – because his mom is special. She’s my daughter.

I confess that grand-parenthood hasn’t fully hit me yet even though it’s been almost 4 months now. I never thought about being a grandfather. Not that I didn’t want it. It simply wasn’t something I had to consider until my daughter announced she was pregnant. She and Cale have planned their lives as carefully as any young couple I know. They had been thinking about parenthood for awhile. I, on the other hand, didn’t give much thought to how parenthood for them would necessitate grand-parenthood for me. It’s beginning to dawn me, slowly.

Grandparents are old. Every kid thinks so. I did. Still do. Part of the challenge is thinking of myself as old. And I am – based on how kids think. I’m in no way insulted by that. When you’re in elementary school, high-schoolers are old. When you’re in high-school, anybody with a career is old. As with most things in life it’s all relative. I’m relatively old now. And I’m good with that.

No, being old isn’t much of an issue for me (yet). Watching my family expand, grow up and grow older – that’s not tough either. It’s a blessing. The issue for me is that my baby – my daughter – now has a baby of her own. In a word, it’s remarkable. Hard to put into words. Hard to express how it makes a dad feel.

Few men, so I suspect, are blessed with a son-in-law as special as Max’s father. Serious-minded, purposeful, dedicated, and responsible. Cale is a man of conviction. And few words. But actions speak louder than words. So it’s okay. My issues have nothing to do with the stereotypical things you hear about dads and sons-in-law. Negative things. I’m proud of this young man, and the girl he married. They’ve both been stars in my life.

When a daughter has a child something odd happens. Memories of the little girl you once knew come rushing back. The entrance of another generation makes you realize time is marching on. And recently, I’ve thought that the maturity and wisdom of age provide a perspective you desperately wish you would have had earlier in life. The issue – my issue – is best expressed in the phrase “pass it on.” Suddenly, more than ever before, I feel the desire and need to pass it on so the stars can shine more brightly.

Some weeks ago my wife was recounting a conversation she’d had with our daughter. “I should have written a book,” she said. “A few weeks ago I told Renae that Max will have to learn how to comfort himself and put himself to sleep. All kids have to learn that.”

Like most first-time parents (I’m sure we were exactly this way ourselves), expertise comes with the birth of the child. It’s as though some sudden insight accompanies the birth of the child. Rhonda’s advice wasn’t readily received. No harm. But, now a book had entered the equation. Renae discovered a book that informed her how a child has to learn to comfort himself and put himself to sleep. Eureka! Without hesitation a phone call is made to inform mom (grandmother) of this new found knowledge. Rhonda said nothing, but called me to report that SHE should have written the book – thus giving her more credibility. We laughed. Another attempt to pass it on. So it doesn’t alway take the first time. Still you press forward.

It is much harder to be first-time parents than to be first-time grandparents. Partly because being a full-time parent is a 24/7 responsibility. Full-time grandparents only have that burden if they’re raising their own grandkids. Thankfully, we’re spared that chore. But full-time parents lack the experience and wisdom. Grandparents have a much larger reservoir of experience and knowledge.

Middle-age is not a bad place to be in life. In fact, I confess it’s about the best place to be based on my experiences. The ambitions of youth are past, but the focus on other goals (more important ones) is still intense. The fears and concerns of becoming established have long since been pushed to the background. Many things that were once a concern simply no longer matter. Caring less isn’t always a bad thing. But caring more about other things begins to press hard – namely, to pass on whatever wisdom life and God have given in hopes of helping the stars in the family shine as bright as possible.

A new star was born into our family because another star gave birth. Three times in my life I’ve had a feeling of intense thankfulness brought about by the birth of a star. When Rhonda gave birth to Ryan, then Renae – I was overcome with appreciation for her suffering in child birth, and thankfulness to God that all was well. I had a similar feeling when Renae gave birth to Max. And it seems fitting I guess because after all, stars give birth to other stars.

I know stars aren’t the exclusive domain of our family. Every family is full of stars. They come in a variety of shapes, sizes and personalities. They’re boys. They’re girls. They’re outgoing. They’re shy. They’re verbal. Or quiet. They’re animated. They’re reserved.

In our family, Max is the most current star. Lord willing, there will be others. But that won’t dim his brilliance. In fact, I’ve come to learn that stars shine brightest when they hang together.

It’s called “family.”