either on their own or in response to his letters and gifts. He was a widower, lived alone, and was the only remaining grandparent. He wanted his grandchildren to know that he was still alive. He had much to offer them, he said, about the family's history and traditions.

'Should I just give up?' he asked.

I suggested that he, as the only living grandparent, persevere and to not accept defeat. Whatever the past might have been, his advanced years called for him to be nonjudgmental, empathic, and healing. I suggested that his grandchildren have or will have families of their own and, in time, will also be grandparents. As elders, they will reflect on their lives and, with a perspective vastly different from their youth and middle years, recall that Grandpa, in his advanced years, had tried to reach out to them as a grandparent in deed as well as in name.

In remembering, they would better understand their own roles as grandparents and their needs as elderly. Through their remembering he will become the 'grandpa' he had sought, long before, to be. Persistence, I reminded him-not giving up-was vital to his well being if not to his life. To stop trying would be to accept defeat. The elderly do not take defeats lightly; at some point the added weight accelerates their downward spiral.

What he was doing for his grandchildren, I wrote, might have profound effects long after he was gone. Grandparenting is both here and now and for the long haul, and it influences grandchildren across their entire life span, not merely for the few years that grandparents were right there to offer guidance and hold them close.

Grandchildren rarely realize it when they're kids-very often not even well into in their middle years-but the grandparents in their lives are forever. Most adults finally figure it out in their latter years. In time, grandkids figure it out-in their turn. *** A woman wrote to me about her pre-teenage daughter's repeated but futile attempts to communicate with her grandfather. He was in his eighth decade and resided in a distant state; the youngster was his only grandchild. Intelligent and caring, she had written to him regularly, sent holiday cards and gifts, and baked and mailed cookies. He did not acknowledge.

When Grandpa did telephone-not often-he spoke briefly with the youngster's parents but avoided talking to her. He had not visited for a long time, lived alone, and was a loner with few friends. The mother's letter did not mention a Grandma, and appealed for a 'suggestion.'

I responded that the parent review grandfather's wellness and what his self-image might be in the light of his past. Had he always been as withdrawn as he now appeared to be? How had he related emotionally to his family when his children were young? Had the family been close, or had Dad been distant even then toward his children and their mother? If he had been a close and caring father, when did changes occur that were significantly different, as currently displayed toward his only grandchild?

What might have brought the changes on? Advancing age can be an important factor: changes that occur during a person's eighth decade and beyond can be ravaging, especially if health had seriously deteriorated or a great personal loss experienced. If such was the case, Grandpa might feel strongly not to impose his difficult problems on to Grandchild?

'I don't know if Grandfather can be changed,' I wrote. 'I do believe that Grandfather needs your understanding and your compassion, and the same from your spouse or partner. Equally, but perhaps not aware of it, he needs the understanding and compassion of his Granddaughter. She keeps reaching out to him; I conclude her sense of compassion is strong. Compassion will not be a burden to her; to the contrary, reaching out strengthens her sensitivity and her developing maturity.

In closing, 'I address to Granddaughter the 'suggestion' you asked for: 'Granddaughter, keep trying. Grandpa might not respond, but he hears you. Do not default; do not ever, ever give up.''

Recapture the Spark

The following article, Joint Day Care for Young and Old, appeared on the op-ed page of The Wall Street Journal, issue dated December 31, 1986. It is as relevant today as when it was first published.

The author, Tara McLaughlin, was a former day-care administrator in Washington, D.C. and, at the time of the publication, a research associate with the Urban Ethnic Research Program at Arizona State University, Tempe, Arizona. I was preparing my first edition of grandpa stories and Ms McLaughlin kindly gave me permission to include her article.

I believe the article deserves wide dissemination to care centers for all age groups, schools, senior centers, retirement residential communities, health care institutions, and other places, especially to where young and old gather or reside. *** Joint Day Care for Young and Old (With the author's permission.)

One evening after work, my husband and I picked up our three children from their day-care center, and we all went to get her great-grandmother at hers. As we entered the adult center, we were struck by the immediate outpouring of love from the elderly to our children.

The day-care adults spontaneously asked questions, and our children, delighted with having an audience, embraced and talked with their newfound friends. As any parent will attest, children and grandparents are allies, because the elderly have the perspective to realize that when a five-year old girl says she wants to be a ballerina, it does not necessarily preclude the possibility that she will become a nuclear physicist. The great expectations of exuberant and excited kids need to be encouraged by attentive adults. A child's special plans or ideas don't always keep on hold until after dinner. And, too, our raucous eight-year old son is never more attentive and loving than when he is with his great-grandmother. She, in turn, cherishes the time with him as she would a special gift.

Because over 50% of mothers work and many grandparents cannot remain at home all day without assistance, the time for wouldn't-it-be- nice-if kind of talk has clearly passed. Broader social issues are really the roots here. Why are we segregating these two groups in the first place? Our elderly are feeling they are being shuffled off to homes, and young people are growing up without the benefit of elderly role models. This is a society where most mothers work and most children don't live close to grandparents. Dual day-care is a simple, loving solution to this separation of the generations.

A Musty Room

As a former day-care administrator I have seen 30 children mobbing a teacher and clamoring for attention-praise for a project, a kiss for a hurt or applause for their ability to count all the way to 10. At the other end of the spectrum, one of my most haunting childhood memories is of making a Christmas visit with my Girl Scout troop to a nursing home, eager to 'brighten a day.' Instead I remember walking into a musty room and helping her to write a letter to her family. The quizzical look she gave me as she asked 'What shall I write about?' and my own awkward groping for an answer are a vision I carry with me today.

Day-care children don't have a lack of playtime; they have a lack of one- to-one attention. And the day-care elderly don't have a lack of time on their hands; they have a lack of someone to share and laugh with and glean excitement and energy from. Combined, dual day care, built on these needs, probably would cost no more and would disturb no one, and, in fact, it just might be the perfect solution.

Learning that a particular bird is called a sparrow or that a