Earlier this week, I drove to Hobby Airport to pick up my daughter and two grandchildren. Excited and ready, I arrived much sooner than I needed to be there, but I was able to find a great parking spot and a seat right in front of baggage claim 6. My timing was impeccable as I tracked their landing and arrival. But after many travelers came and went with their family and luggage from baggage claim, I began to wonder when it would be my turn. I began to pace the area and imagined that with two kids in tow, my daughter probably had much to manage before she exited the plane and made her way to me.

Finally, they came down the corridor. My three-year-old grandson was in his stroller, and my one-year-old granddaughter was strapped to her mother’s frontside. I resisted the urge to run towards them, but I walked quickly to get a deliciously warm hug from all of them. It was sheer joy to see them, help them to the car, load the luggage, and get my daughter’s approval that I had installed the car seats properly and safely. Not even a NASA engineer could have installed them tighter.

During our walk to the car, I recalled privately a moment that caused me to tear up a bit. Many years ago, when I was a young father of four children, I flew with my young sons from Houston to Chicago to see my parents. It gave my wife time with the girls and some relief from a full house. On the plane ride, I sat in the middle seat and entertained my sons on either side of me. Without iPads and screen time, I read them books, played games, and fed them. The flights went well.

After we disembarked, we walked the long corridors at O’Hare airport, and just like my daughter, I came down the elevator to find my parents waiting for me. Warm and loving hugs welcomed us, and my boys were smothered with unconditional love. Those memories are vivid and the feelings still run deeply. My father died 15 years ago this month, and my mother, who will be 90 next month, cherishes the love we show her now, but she doesn’t remember those days the way I do. It’s okay, because we’re recreating those memories anew.

My preference would be for my grandchildren (and their parents) to live nearby, but their distance doesn’t deny us time together on FaceTime or in person. When I saw my grandson, he warmed up to me immediately. I was Pops from FaceTime! Even my granddaughter trusted me to put her down for a nap with hugs and a few minutes to rub her back.

Many things can be said about grandchildren, but there aren’t enough words to capture what it does to the human heart and soul. In Torah, grandchildren are key to the future. We learn, “Remember the days of old, consider the years of ages past; Ask your father, he will inform you; Your elders, they will tell you…” (Deuteronomy 34:7). There are many lessons and obligations that Jewish parents have regarding their children. Today the list is vast and more complicated than it seemed to be years ago. But it still includes the fundamentals to rear our children to be educated, to contribute to the welfare of the community, and to bring Jewish children into the future.

On the other hand, grandparents have the obligation to tell their grandchildren what their destiny will be. In Torah, the elders tell it because they knew that, from the beginning, God determined Israel’s unique future. Likewise, grandparents can see what even their parents cannot see in the punim, the faces, of their grandchildren. We see our grandchildren’s whole world and their future. We see only their brilliance and talent. We see only their joys and blessings. With unconditional love, encouraging remarks, and abundant joy for every effort they make, we help them fulfill their dreams. Unlike anything their parents, teachers, coaches, or friends can offer them, we have no other motivation except to encourage them in everything they dream of doing and being.

If you don’t believe me, then remember what we were also taught, “A genius is an average child with Jewish grandparents.” I pray that summer brings families together to build memories for a lifetime or two, and for generations to come. May all our children and grandchildren thrive in a world worthy of God’s blessing to us.

L’Shalom,