Opinion - My wife and I recently became grandparents for the first time.
For as long as I can remember, I have loved babies.
But truth be told, I had never fully prepared myself for the title of “Grandpa” - or “Thatha” in Tamil.
Although I have many relatives and friends who are years younger than me and who have long been initiated into the ranks of grandparent-hood, I still associated the term “grandparent” with an older age, retirement, a rocking chair and lots of free time.
I am always on the go - I work an eight-hour day.
Writing is a vocation rather than a job, and I hope to do so to the end. I serve on a few community organisations and have a hectic social life.
Hence, instantly accepting Thatha status was psychologically challenging for me.
Nonetheless, I have found that there are many surprises when you become a grandparent for the first time - starting with how you get the news.
When I became a father for the first and second time, I announced the births the old-fashioned way - I excitedly called my parents from a public pay phone at the hospital.
By the time our third child - the laatlammetjie - was born, mobile phones were around and I spread the news from my Nokia 2110, which had only basic functions like calls in/out and SMS send/receive.
My son did it the new-fangled way - he WhatsApped a photo of his new-born daughter.
There was no excited conversation.
Of course, it made sense to send a photo so that we could see what the newest Devan looked like.
Still, I was surprised that WhatsApping a photo was the method of delivery. It seemed so untraditional.
Another surprising thing for me when I entered the demographic category of grandparent was when I saw our new granddaughter, Ahiri, in the flesh for the first time a week after she came into the world.
While billions of humans have been born down through the ages, the realisation hit me that the tiny new baby I was looking at was, indeed, a miracle - she was an extension of my grandparents, my parents, and my wife and me, through my son and daughter-in-law.
The Devan gene pool was also strong - granddaughter Ahiri so closely resembled our daughter Saranya when she was a newborn.
One more unpredicted factor, I have learnt, is that today’s young parents know it all and don’t want to be guided.
I recall when as new parents my wife and I would be gently chided by my mother: “You’re holding him wrong! You’re feeding him wrong! He’s too bundled up! He’s not bundled up enough!”
Despite having helped raise three healthy, well-rounded children of my own and having spent a lot of time caring for relatives’ babies, let me give some advice when dealing with today’s new parents: never give them advice - unless asked.
They don’t need backseat baby drivers. Show up when you’re needed, and disappear when you’re not.
While it will be difficult to only watch and not open my big mouth, I must be ready to accept change.
This is my grandchild, not my child. I must guard against being too generous with my own parenting skills.
My wife and I must quickly get accustomed to leaving parenting to the new parents, and accept our role as grandparents.
We must remember that the baby of our baby is not our baby - it’s more, it’s our grandchild.
For me, even more joyous than seeing my grandchild for the first time was witnessing that my child, my son, had become a parent in his own right.
It appeared as if it wasn’t that long ago when I was changing the cotton nappies (disposable diapers were a luxury then) of a little baby who now was all grown up and holding his own baby.
My son, who is the new father, never displayed a great love for babies when he was growing up.
He would run a mile when his little sister pooped in her diaper.
His graduation into fatherhood has surprised me - especially that he has eased into his new role as a parent much faster than I was able to transition into the role of a new grandparent.
Such is his commitment to his new responsibility that he has applied for a full month’s leave from work to be able to support his wife and bond with the baby.
Meanwhile, I must make a concerted effort to get used to being in a secondary role.
I must accept that I am no longer the football coach, but a substitute on the bench. I may, or may not, be called to play.
The distance between Durban and Johannesburg will also make connecting with our new grandchild testing.
Voice calls and Skype video sessions can never replace the benefits of close physical proximity, especially touch, singing a favourite lullaby and the sweet smell of baby powder.
As baby Ahiri grows up, it will not be easy to simply drive a few minutes to her house, open the door and have her rush into my arms and smother me with kisses.
There will not be spontaneous visits with her to the beach, the zoo or an amusement park.
Hence the occasional visits by me to Johannesburg - or my son and his family to Durban - must be used to carve out a meaningful relationship with our grandchild - giving and getting unlimited love - while praying and hoping she grows into a confident, kind and successful being.
I have accepted there is a qualitative difference between being a parent and a grandparent.
As far as I am concerned, one of the joys of being a grandfather, apart from the obvious fact that the role is part-time and often optional, is the lack of stress.
I don’t have to worry whether the homework has been done or dinner has been eaten.
I will not have sleepless nights when the child goes clubbing.
Another big plus is that I won’t be the target of teenage rebellion. It is rather like the difference between marriage and a transitory love affair. Parenthood, like marriage, is hard work, a lifetime’s commitment that brings pain as well as joy.
Having a grandchild is like being in love. I know our time together will be brief: the child will grow up, I will die.
The very brevity of the relationship will add to the passion; the snatched moments of intense pleasure will be savoured as joyful memories during my winter days.
There was a time when the two older of my three children gave me that opportunity, but those days are long gone.
They are too busy nurturing their own happiness. Good for them. Now I relish the time I spend with the laatlammetjie - at least until she finds a new hero.
Ahiri’s entrance into the world has given me an identity change and has moved me up a notch in the life cycle.
I am proud to be my granddaughters’ living link to one branch of her family tree.
As a grandparent, I have a precious opportunity to transmit the values I hold dear, with less risk of backlash.
I hope to impart lessons that will imbed ethical wisdom, emotional intelligence, generosity and kindness.
I will guard against falling prey to the temptations of vicariously achieving my own goals through my grandchildren or directing my children’s parenting.
However, I would like to have a positive impact on the minds and hearts of the little loved ones.
I also want to imprint myself in my grandchildren’s minds as the bringer of limitless mirth and chocolate.
* Yogin Devan is a media consultant and social commentator.
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