My daughter and I have planned a reunion for her, me, and my granddaughter on Columbus Day Weekend/A/K/A Indigenous People Weekend. ( I can get behind the name change, which is inevitable and appropriate. Columbus Didn’t Discover America; he scouted for the invasion.)

(The photo above, Robin and Sandy, by Emma Span)

I haven’t seen either one of them in three years, and I’m happy they are coming to stay in a motel near the farm. We don’t have a lot of space in the farmhouse.

I’ve ordered books and a robot-making kit for Robin, and I will be glad to touch, speak with, and hug my daughter and granddaughter face to face.

She’s a remarkable person, and I miss her.

Maria is also eager to get to know Robin better.

She’s offered to make a scarf with her when she comes, and Robin is excited about it.

I hope she’ll like the donkeys more than she did last time. These are true New Yorkers – Brooklyn is a nation all of its own, and there are a lot of things about the country that they don’t like.

Grandfathering has been complicated for me; it is not natural gear.

I love my granddaughter and would like to be closer to her, but the realities of distance, pandemics, and lifestyles have overwhelmed me. And I’m not looking for her to transform my good life.

I don’t want or need to be deeply involved in every aspect of her life.

I am also not one of those grandfathers I meet all the time who tell me having grandchildren is the best thing that has ever happened to them. I want my life to be the best thing that has happened to me, not someone else’s child, not just because she’s blood.

I don’t have the personality for that unless it happens spontaneously or naturally.

I feel a strong connection with Robin; we talk on the phone and are aware of one another, but unlike the other grandparents, I don’t vacation with her, take care of her regularly, or host family gatherings in pleasant places.

I can’t do it.

I don’t see things changing all that much, but as the pandemic eases, we can see more of each other if we are so inclined. And I am happy. We’re far apart, and that is just the way life breaks.

I believe I can connect, and  I’m hoping the farm will be a place she can escape to and perhaps learn to appreciate nature and animals. She’s at the right age for that.

Traveling to and from New York City and Cambridge, and Brooklyn is difficult for me and not pleasant for them. They are not fans of the country, and they lead busy lives with demanding jobs.

Robin has a busy and whole life which she loves as much as I love mine.

And it gets busier by the month.

The pandemic hit New York hard and we decided it was too risky for me and them to come up here until very recently. It’s still difficult, it turns out, but we are taking the risk. It’s just time that we saw one another. I miss them both.

I’m calling the bookstore to order some unique books to give her, and I’ve bought an immaculate Robot Kit (Robin is into making robots) that can be synced with a smartphone (her mother’s) to sing and dance and pick things up.

I can help her assemble it when she comes. And we’ve got some excellent restaurants in mind to bring them both. She’s taking the train, and I’ll pick them up, and Emma can use Maria’s car while she’s here.

I’ll be the best grandfather I can be, and appreciate the time we will have together.