J. D. Porter

When you were just over a year old, you and your parents moved in with grandma and me while your new house was being remodeled. After four months, two weeks before Christmas, the house was finished and you moved back home. When you first moved in with us, it felt crowded and uncomfortable. But as the weeks wore on, I came to enjoy having you and your parents around. All of us living under one roof is a family way of life that must be thousands of years old, dating back to times when people lived in wooded huts and in hillside caves.

It is good for children to be surrounded by parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins who help shoulder responsibilities, burdens, and joys of our shared lives. Since parents don’t instinctively know everything about raising a child, they tend to seek advice from doctors, nurses, and midwives. But in the past, it was family that stepped in, grandparents, aunts and uncles, people who learned from their elders. It is known as generational knowledge—the wisdom, skills, and cultural practices passed down from older to younger generations through observation, explicit teaching, and shared experiences. It is knowledge that comes from the village.

It has been a privilege to have a small part in your learning to walk, talk, and ride your little 4-wheeled push-bike. I enjoyed our stroller walks to watch traffic up on Covington Highway, the afternoons kicking up leaves in the backyard, and the evenings playing in front of the fireplace in our living room. Most days, your mom or dad took you to daycare while grandma and I enjoyed picking you up, usually a little early to give you time to play outside. When you didn’t feel well, we all took turns holding you, although it was your mom that woke up to cuddle you in the middle of the night. My own bedtime came earlier as I tried to overcome the pleasant sense of exhaustion that enveloped me after you were asleep.

Having you around also caused me to reflect on all that I missed with my other grandchildren who live in far-off cities. And it made me wonder how much of my own childhood was shaped by people other than my parents. Grandma Porter escorted me on bus rides downtown, Grandpa and Grandma Malone took me on aimless car rides around town, Uncle Norman taught me how to replace the head gasket on my ’56 Chevy, and Aunt Zola and Uncle Louie allowed us to spend weekends at their cabin on Lake Tarpon.

You have your own village and are building similar memories right now. You are being shaped by visits to see Grandpa Jimmy and Grandma Jenise in Blakely, Georgia where you ride the tractor and play with your cousin Whitaker. You travel to Woodstock to see your friend Henry. You will make friends in your new neighborhood. And grandma and I will be right beside you. All of us are happy to be part of your village.