Observer Online | Viewpoints | Our Town

Observernews.com!

Posted Jan. 12, 2001

She"s a Girl!

My 3-year-old grandson, Jackson, gives me a whole new meaning to the phrase, ÏYou are forced to grow old, but not to grow up.Ó

While Christmas shopping for him at Toys R Us this year, I wanted to buy all the toys I could see. Not for him, you understand, but for me. Hanging around with that little guy takes me back to my childhood.

I wanted to buy him Tinkertoys and Lincoln Logs, not exactly the kinds of things a youngster in today"s computer-savvy world necessarily wants. But remember: I was buying these toys for me. I bought the Tinkertoys because they were still made out of wood; the Lincoln Logs were plastic.

So with all the toys under the Christmas tree, what did Jackson play with? A box of ordinary wooden blocks his aunt bought him. My kind of kid!

But next Christmas is bound to be different. In fact, Jackson"s life will never be the same. I suspect neither my life nor my wife Betsy"s life will ever be the same, either.

This week, only hours before I wrote this column, Jackson"s mom, my daughter Molly Mentzel, gave birth to a girl, all 5 pounds 14 ounces of her.

Wait a minute! Did I say girl? That means a granddaughter.

Anna Elizabeth Mentzel. She"s a girl. She"s my granddaughter! Holy smokes!

She"s a girl!

Now, I"ve had the better part of six months to get used to the fact that Molly and Fred were going to have a girl. They knew that early.

But it never really hit me until about 5 p.m. this Tuesday, when in Molly"s room at Fair Oaks Hospital, she said, ÏDad, do you want to hold Anna?Ó

Fred handed me this tiny, swaddled, pink, soft, delicate baby. I knew instantly she was a girl, my granddaughter, and way down deep inside my soul something began to bloom, to flourish, to rise quickly to my heart.

I suspected it was love™love for Anna, love for my daughter and her husband, love for my other two children and love for my wife.

But the love for this tiny baby, for Anna, my granddaughter, was stronger than I could have ever imagined.

Sitting there with her I suddenly realized that I was holding a tiny life made up of so many people. She was made, in part, from my genes, my wife"s genes, the genes of Fred"s parents who were in the room, and the genes of Molly and Fred. Indeed, Anna is made up of a million thousand people before her.

We were all part of this new baby, this new life, my granddaughter. She"ll never be alone.

Are girls really different than boys? I think so. Oh, I know there are the physical and emotional differences. I learned that from my own children. But how about the differences between grandsons and granddaughters?

I think learning that truth will be a part of my growing older, and hopefully, wiser. I just hope I don"t grow up. I won"t learn a thing by growing up and it would only disappoint my grandchildren.

I can see myself, an old man, sitting on some old sofa someplace, or in some battered old wheelchair, Jackson on one knee, Anna on the other, telling them stories of long ago until they get tired of my ramblings and hop on down to play with their Tinkertoys, dolls, blocks, plastic Lincoln Logs, and, of course, their computers.

Did I tell you I have a new granddaughter? Her name is Anna Elizabeth Mentzel, and she"s really beautiful.

And that"s Our Town this week.