I slowly stand up in the middle of a crowded church basement. After clearing my throat, I say, “My name is Bill. And I’m a grandpa-holic.” Everyone in the room replies in unison, “Hi Bill.”
And so begins another meeting of the 12-step support group Grandparents Anonymous.
I’m still a little shocked that I am here with all these other senior citizens struggling with compulsive behavior. For at least 30 years, I was the person who rolled his eyes whenever someone engaged in silly “grandparent antics.”
I remember the time my friend Dave, right in the middle of a Christmas party, got down on his hands and knees and started making funny faces with his 1-year-old grandson. “Aw, Dave,” I said. “That’s embarrassing. Plus, at your age, you’re gonna need help getting back up.” He completely ignored me and continued playing with the baby.
Then there was the time at a company picnic when a co-worker named Betty began acting foolishly. And she hadn’t even started drinking yet. When Betty’s son arrived at the picnic with a 3-month-old baby girl, Betty, usually a no-nonsense professional at the office, suddenly made weird cooing noises and began pinching the little girl’s cheek. I nonchalantly moved closer to Betty and whispered, “Betty, what are you doing? You’re acting ridiculous.” Just like Dave, she completely ignored me and continued cooing and pinching and saying over and over again in a high-pitched voice, “Isn’t my little granddaughter so precious?!”
In addition to those episodes when people very close to me temporarily lost their minds, there have been countless occasions when other acquaintances pulled out envelopes filled with snapshots, or more recently, their smartphones and began showing me photographs of their grandchildren. Being the polite person that I am, I usually forced a smile, nodded my head, and said, “Um, yeah, very cute.” But in the back of my mind I always thought, “C’mon, man. Babies are babies. They all look the same.”
So, for many years I was a no-nonsense rational human being. And then it happened. I became a grandfather and suddenly I was the one out of control. I pull out my phone and show photographs to anyone and everyone, at any time and every time. Even when someone gets fed up and says, “Bill, I’m not in the mood right now,” I reply, “Oh sure, I understand. But you gotta see this picture. He’s wearing the baseball hat I bought him. Isn’t he the cutest thing?!”
In addition to those episodes when people very close to me temporarily lost their minds, there have been countless occasions when other acquaintances pulled out envelopes filled with snapshots, or more recently, their smartphones and began showing me photographs of their grandchildren. Being the polite person that I am, I usually forced a smile, nodded my head, and said, “Um, yeah, very cute.” But in the back of my mind I always thought, “C’mon, man. Babies are babies. They all look the same.”
So, for many years I was a no-nonsense rational human being. And then it happened. I became a grandfather and suddenly I was the one out of control. I pull out my phone and show photographs to anyone and everyone, at any time and every time. Even when someone gets fed up and says, “Bill, I’m not in the mood right now,” I reply, “Oh sure, I understand. But you gotta see this picture. He’s wearing the baseball hat I bought him. Isn’t he the cutest thing?!”
So, here I am, standing timidly in the basement of a church and describing my struggles. The folks in the crowd are listening attentively to my embarrassing personal stories. They nod periodically, empathizing with my difficulties. After about five minutes, I conclude and start to sit down. A lady nearby says, “That was terrific, Bill. Thanks for sharing. By the way, how is your grandson doing these days?”
Suddenly, I jump back up, filled with excitement. “Oh, he’s doing great! Let me show you!” I yell while reaching into my back pocket for my iPhone. “Here, look at this picture. Isn’t he so cute?!”
In a matter of seconds, five dozen senior citizens leap to their feet (or what passes for leaping at our age), and start waving their phones frantically. A loud roar explodes in the room, as everyone talks loudly, excitedly, and simultaneously. “Look at little Johnny!” “This was Suzy at her birthday party last month!” “Here we are at a baseball game!” “These are the twins, who just turned four!”
Suddenly, I jump back up, filled with excitement. “Oh, he’s doing great! Let me show you!” I yell while reaching into my back pocket for my iPhone. “Here, look at this picture. Isn’t he so cute?!”
In a matter of seconds, five dozen senior citizens leap to their feet (or what passes for leaping at our age), and start waving their phones frantically. A loud roar explodes in the room, as everyone talks loudly, excitedly, and simultaneously. “Look at little Johnny!” “This was Suzy at her birthday party last month!” “Here we are at a baseball game!” “These are the twins, who just turned four!”
Once again, a Grandparents Anonymous meeting concludes the way they always do, in total chaos. We all know that we’re behaving foolishly, and not a single one of us cares.
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