Ian arrives on his timetable

When you first meet someone, how long does it take before you decide that the two of you are going to hit it off?

For me and Ian Matthew Rupard, it took less than a minute.

Maybe it was a full minute, but when I was holding my newest grandson in my arms for the first time Monday, time flew by.

But we made a connection, a very definite connection. Our eyes locked for the first of many times. I liked what I saw. And I’ll never forget it.

I don’t know that he’ll remember the moment too well.

But the good thing is that Ian is coming to live at my house for a while, and so we will get a chance to know each other much better in the coming months.

See, Ian’s dad is a soldier, stationed in Germany right now. So his mom, my baby daughter Emily, is staying with us until the next duty station is sorted out.

As it happened, Dad was late for the birth. Something about missing a flight. Really, he thought he was leaving in plenty of time. According to the doctors, Ian’s ETA was Friday. I guess the little guy had his own timetable.

Even without Dad on the premises, his side of the family was well represented. Were there really seven parents, step-parents and sisters on hand? That’s by my unofficial count. Of course, this was their first venture into the wonderful world of grandbabies.

I would not exactly say that I am an old hand at this grandfather business. Ian’s the third grandson. The other two, Jack and Sam, are in Disney World. Can’t wait until they hook up for the first time.

As a matter of fact, they did their dead-level best to talk their Aunt Emmy into making the trip to Florida with them. Jack, the 5-year-old, patiently explained all of the attractions at the wonderful world of Disney, certain that it would persuade his beloved aunt to come along for the thrilling ride.

She had her own thrilling ride Monday. Absent Dad, Mama Jan stood by during the labor and delivery. Me thinks she enjoyed this one a lot more than the other three she had a direct participation in. She played the good reporter for much of the process, sending timely text messages about centimeters and the like.

At 5:44 came this text:  “Fixing to have a baby!”

And then nothing for what seemed like ages. Finally at 6:55 Jan bounced out of the delivery room with pictures and some details. Six pounds, 14 ounces. What time? She didn’t know. Later, we learned it was 6:45.

As far as we can tell, he arrived with all the pieces in their right places. Only one question remains.

Is his hair red, like his Daddy, called Cheeto-Head by one acquaintance? Next time, I’m peeking under that stocking cap.

Online PS: The hair is brown.

This appeared in the March 21 edition of the Oconee Enterprise.