Some People Feel the Rain - Others Just Get Wet.

Some People Feel the Rain
Others Just Get Wet.

During my life, I have experienced the blessing of having three children and an adult granddaughter. I love them all and have had a great deal of fun and many happy times with them. However, in the summer of 2010, Jack, my grandson, came into the world. Being a grandfather is different now from when I was a parent or two decades ago when my granddaughter was born. Then Owen arrived two years after Jack, which intensified the difference between parenting and early grandparenting and now. It is radically different. Trust me.

The following are some random photos of Jack and Owen having fun together.

Jack is teaching Owen how to share.

Owen and Jack are finishing their father's birthday cake.

Jack is bouncing on my back while Owen shows me his giraffe.

Jack drives his car on papa's gray Interstate highway.

Jack and Owen explore learning.

While I love the bonus that I am experiencing now with Jack and Owen, I also want to understand what has changed. I have wrestled with attempting to understand the transforming difference that exists between what took place years ago and now. I have written about various aspects that address my question of why. However, I am not satisfied that I have the complete answer. I fear that I am overlooking something...something critically important. Here are some reasons that explain the difference between the past and the present:

I have danced with death twice and understand more fully that I am not immortal. I want to live each day to the fullest.
Jack and Owen are younger than five, which was the age I was when both my grandfathers died. I do not want to die without Jack and Owen having some substantive memory of their papa who truly loves them.
Regarding my grandfathers, I might be grieving over the loss of them nearly 70-years ago since they died. Jack and Owen have reminded me about what my grandfathers would have enjoyed with me. Therefore, I am grieving missing them and not remembering happy times. Therefore, I am vicariously reliving what once had happened to me many decades ago.
I also understood the need to enjoy the moment and not worry about all the other things in life that I deemed critical when I was a young father.
Another aspect to explaining my relationship with Jack and Owen was writing these stories merely reminds me of most of the things that I would have forgotten over time. My articles are essentially parts of a diary.
A part of my feelings about Jack and Owen might be related to some sort of harbinger of doom that might be lurking before me in the not too distant future. Do I fear that I will not be around much longer?
Part of my excitement about those two children is merely reflecting their excitement about life.
Finally, I want Jack and Owen to remember me as their papa, which everyone would want whether they are parents, grandparents, or other family members. However, that is not the central issue for wanting to be remembered by those two youngsters. I want them to remember that their papa saw value and uniqueness in each of them. I was hugging and saying good-bye to Jack, as I got ready to return to Crown Point six months ago. I kissed him and said, "You are a great kid; I love you." He responded, "No, I just Jack." My response was "No, you are not just Jack."

I want an understanding of this transformation and have spent a great deal of time attempting to resolve this issue of why. While searching the Internet, I found a video of a young child's excitement about experiencing the rain.

As I watched that home video, I recalled what Bob Dylan said, "Some people feel the rain; others just get wet." It is interesting that people can experience the same event but will often have differing feelings about that experience.

Dylan is correct.

That cute little toddler reflected what Dylan said about the joy of the rain. She exuberantly expressed her sheer enjoyment of the moment. However, something happens, as we grow older. We lose much of those childhood joys like experiencing the joy of rain. By our teens, rain merely interferes with our lives.

Randy Pausch advised us, "Give yourself permission to dream. Fuel your kids' dreams too. Once in a while, that might even mean letting them stay up past their bedtimes." Pausch experiences life and living differently than most people, because he was in the dying process while giving his Last Lecture. He said, "Never lose the child like wonder. It's just too important. It's what drives us. Help others."

Perhaps, one of the reasons why Jack and Owen's excitement about nearly everything intrigues me is that I realize how life morphs us into acceptance of the status quo. It seems that they are reminding me of when I was a toddler filled with wonderment and joy.

I have taught art history for years and will mention to my classes what Pablo Picasso said about children. "Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up." Picasso's statement is another example of how life curtails much of youthful exuberance and joy.

My experience of attempting to explain the change in me is a metaphor for all of us. We need to go out and feel the rain before it is too late for us. Randy Pausch essentially is telling us the same thing. Pausch is living life to the fullest as he was dying of pancreatic cancer. Therein lies a lesson for all of us. Feel the rain and enjoy it before it is too late.