When you become a Bubba …

I had something like G-Pa or Dude in mind for my “grandpa name.”  But turns out that you don’t get to pick the moniker by which you will be known to your grand kids.   Their ability or lack thereof to vocalize, along with influences outside your control will determine your grandparent assignation.   In my case, a college friend of Bethany’s, Caitlin, her partner Adam and darling toddler Ellery came to visit while Bethany, Nate and Alex happened to be in Eugene.   Upon meeting Ellery, she looked at me and exclaimed, “Bubba,” perhaps mistaking this strange guy with a beard for her own Bubba.   Just like that, Alex followed suit, and I’ve been Bubba ever since!

For me, Bubba conjures a distinctly southern connotation and a non too subtle reference to the restaurant of shrimping fame or the redoubtable character in the classic movie Forrest Gump.   Still, I am more than happy to assume the monicker of a good ‘ol boy if puts a smile on my grand kid’s face.  After all, there isn’t anything about Alex (4), Parker (2) or Simon (<1) that doesn’t put a huge grin on my face!   

In fact, the sheer joy that accompanies the grandparent stage of life has to be experienced in order for it to be believed.   There are plenty of t-shirts and bumper-stickers out there that hint at this euphoric state of being, but, until it becomes a reality, it’s hard not to be a bit cynical about what seems to be another over-hyped phenomenon.   I think there are a few reasons why the cliches crumble into so much metaphorical dust once a child of your child makes her or his grand entrance into the world:

• You realize that your kids not only survived your well intentioned but flawed attempt to raise them properly but succeeded in bringing the most beautiful and adorable beings into the world that you have ever seen
• You start understanding that the circle of life isn’t just a Disney movie concept
• You wonder why the hell you were so pre-occupied with your job and evening commitments that you missed out on holding your little munchkins and never letting go
• You know in the very marrow of your bones that there isn’t anything, nothing, nada, zilch that you wouldn’t do to for these little tykes and then pause to reflect on the fact that your parents (the great grandparents) had your back the whole time and feel the same way about your kids
• You develop an insatiable craving for photos, videos, snapchats, face-times, Marco Polos, texts, etc., and discover to your delight that living in the digital age means terabytes of this stuff is coming your way
• Stricken with a Close-Encounters-of-the-Third-Kind mania, you can’t stop building and adding to a photo shrine in your office only to find you can’t update it fast enough because time is moving too freaking fast
• You realize that investing a paltry monthly sum in a college savings plan might actually make a big difference some day and you know that “some day” is coming a lot faster than anyone realizes
• You see new dimensions and depths of love in your partner and the way she/he lights up in the presence of the kiddos sets your heart aflame 
• You proudly don your “Bubba, est. 2014” t-shirt and imagine that everyone you meet wants one too

And this is a partial list.  But, the biggest and most mind-blowing realization that accompanies becoming a Bubba is this:  you know once and for all that you are blessed–blessed in a heart exploding, can’t put into words, goose-bumpy, tears in the eyes kind of way.  It’s enough to give you hope and that’s saying sometime these days.