Life gets even better when you become a grandparent
Last night was one of those magical evenings that remind me just how special this chapter of life truly is. If you’re not a grandparent yet, you can’t quite understand how deep the joy runs—but once you are, you get it.
For me, being “Papa” isn’t just a title. It’s a transformation. I’m not the stern authority figure, nor the rule enforcer (unless absolutely necessary). No, I’m the human jungle gym, the amateur magician, the master storyteller, and the conductor of chaos. With them, I’m more playmate than patriarch—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Last night’s grand adventure? Building a living room tent fortress, crafting a complex marble run (which somehow turned into a simpler, old-school version), and laughing at silly YouTube videos with my grandson, who has the most contagious laugh on Earth. My granddaughter bounced around the kitchen helping with dinner prep, seasoning it all with little skips and giggles.
At dinner, I was perfectly wedged between the two of them—Papa in the middle of joy—chatting with my son, daughter-in-law, and wife. Then came one final burst of energy, a blur of last-minute play, and finally the ceremonial piggyback ride to the car. A whirlwind three hours. Then came the pick-up, the crash on the couch, and the quiet exhale of contentment with my wife by my side.
We don’t get these moments often enough. Life, as always, is busy and messy. But my grandkids love coming over, and if they had their way, they’d move in full-time to Papa and Gigi’s. According to them, it’s the best place on Earth.
Well, almost the best.
The beach still holds the crown.
But that’s a story for another day.
Choose joy. Always.
