Dear Oliver – Introduction

In a couple of weeks, my youngest grandson will celebrate his first birthday. I have other Grands—and I love all of them dearly—but Oliver is the first one I’ve lived near enough to share his life. Karen and I see him often and keep him for the day once a week. I have watched his progress closely and have come to wonder what the world of his future will look like.

When I was his age, cars didn’t have seatbelts and bicycles didn’t come with helmets. We had a small, black and white TV and a telephone on a shelf in the hallway. A terrible world war was a few years in the past and space travel was the stuff of futuristic science fiction.

I certainly don’t long for the “good old days”. I love my life today. But I do wonder what the future holds for someone who was born the year I turned 75. He won’t remember anything from his early years, so I thought I’d write some letters to his future self. His first birthday seems like a good time to begin.

Dear Oliver,

Happy 1st Birthday!

I am surprised at how much this old man enjoys being in your company. I have older grandchildren and great-grandchildren, but they all live in Louisville, Kentucky. I seldom get to see them. You’re the first grandchild I’ve lived near enough to see weekly. Words can’t describe how I feel when you recognize me and break into a smile. Even at a few months of age, you have a great disposition, are very inquisitive, and change from week to week.

I am also amused by some of the parallels during your first year of life and my 75th. For example, your pudgy little fingers struggle to pick up small objects and bits of food. My wrinkled, bony fingers also struggle to function on occasion. My hands shake so badly I am constantly dropping things and can barely get a forkful of food to my mouth. My handwriting has gone from bad to unrecognizable.

 Another parallel is that we are both unsteady on our feet. You will soon be learning to walk, and I am forgetting how to. A couple of years ago, when I was in the hospital for hernia surgery, I was given a wrist band that declared I was a “Fall Risk”. It was probably just because of my advanced age. I haven’t fallen yet, but I do wobble on occasion like you.

And, I have been thinking about teeth—because you have teeth coming in and I just had a molar tooth extracted because it broke off. I now have a painful hole in my jaw that will take a few weeks to heal. Your tooth pain is from the upper canines that will soon join your four incisors. Your pain will heal as well, but you will have new teeth to show for it.

I love writing but don’t sell many books. Maybe I’m just not very good at it. I’ve published three nonfiction books, two novels. and recently completed my third (and final) novel—The Muleskinner and The King. Once I get that published, I’ll be content spending my days writing to the future you. But writing this letter to you is a unique experience. In my other writing, I know what the journey of my characters will be, and I have a good idea of how the story will end. As I write these words to the future you though, I have no idea what our journey will look like or how and when it will come to an end. I just know I’m looking forward to spending as much time with you as I can.

I just came across a lovely quote that sums up how I feel about our life together. It comes from the 1997 book by Mitch Albom called Tuesdays With Morrie. Morrie Schwartz is dying, but he says that as long as we can love each other, and remember the feeling of love, we can die without ever really going away. All the love we create is still there. We live on in the hearts of everyone we have touched. Someday, when you’re old enough to read this, you may not remember me. But the love I’m giving you will live on inside your heart and my spirit will be with you for the rest of your life.

I’ll write again next week.

Love,

Grandpa