What I Am Learning Being a Grandad

“This may just be the best job I’ve ever had!”

“Grandad”.  I didn’t know what to expect of this new, later-in-life title I was about to inherit upon the birth of our first grandchild.  People would often ask me, “How do you feel about becoming a grandparent?”  “I don’t know”, was my usual reply.  And that was me being honest.

But once that little boy (our first grandchild) arrived in this world, I think both my wife and I realized this was going to be great. Becoming a grandad was and is a blessed new role that’s been bestowed on me in my later years.

This role has taught me a lot.  I found myself reflecting on it once again over the past year as we welcomed our first granddaughters into the family. They, like their three older boy cousins, are wonderful.

What am I learning, being a grandad (now five times over)?  Here’s a working list that I have no doubt I will continue to add to:

  • Naps are a gift – especially when holding a napping grandchild. Babies like contact time when they sleep and it’s good for grandparents too.
  • It’s not always the outcome, but the process that counts.  Having a grandchild help you cook, garden, rake leaves, repair something . . . what a fun thing to be able to teach, watch & encourage.  The process is more important than the product.
  • When they show up, drop what you’re doing – it can wait.  Having grandchildren has helped me learn the importance of the present. These moments are fleeting, don’t miss them.
  • Every grandchild’s personality is unique and should be cherished as such.  Don’t play the comparison game, just enjoy each unique child on their own.
  • Ice cream tastes better when you share it.
  • Parents need a break once in a while – and so do their children.
  • Having some one-on-one time with a grandchild can teach you a lot about that child.
  • Sports feel way less competitive from the grandad chair.  Every team member deserves equal playing time!
  • Who knew Legos could be so much fun?
  • Toddlers take great joy in tearing down things. Especially aforementioned Legos.
  • The laughter of a child is some of life’s best music.
  • Discipline should be the realm of mom and dad.
  • I’m in love with a Grandma (or “Lolly” in my case)!
  • Don’t worry about keeping score in cards, basketball, soccer or any other shared game. Let the grand be the score keeper if that’s important to them.  Remember, they are always right.
  • Enjoy the wonder of discovery through a grandchild’s eyes and other senses. This world is pretty incredible.  Sometimes our familiarity is a detriment to wonder – not so with a child.  Let them re-teach you.
  • Collections are fun – sticks, rocks, bugs, Hot wheels . . . . you name it!
  • Spend some money on those kids.  You can’t take it with you.  Better to enjoy a moment together now.  
  • Little libraries are fun to visit while on a walk. 
  • A piano is a magnet to little people.  Ear plugs might help.
  • There’s nothing quite like raiding Lolly’s snack cabinet.  In my day it was Grandma’s cookie jar.
  • A trip to Rural King just for the free popcorn is worth it!
  • Watching your adult children parent is pretty cool.

These are just some of the things that I am learning.  I’m sure there will be more.  Can’t wait!

© Daniel M. Cash 2025

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New Book Release: Dakota Dreams and Hoosier Homeland by Daniel M. Cash

My latest book, Dakota Dreams and Hoosier Homeland, a work of historical fiction, has been and is available in paperback and e-reader format on Amazon.com. You can listen to my podcast about the book, featuring the book’s Prologue read in my own voice, on my Substack page. You can also read the Prologue below.

Dakota Dreams and Hoosier Homeland is the story of Clyde and Anna Cash, my paternal grandparents, set in the year 1915 between the communities of Greencastle, Indiana and Arnegard, North Dakota. My grandad Clyde tried his hand at homesteading at about that time in history. And, while I do not know all the particulars to his story, I have researched enough to have created a story that may represent some of the challenges and opportunities he faced. Meanwhile, back home in Indiana, his girl Anna (my grandmother) was patiently, or maybe not so patiently, waiting for Clyde to come to senses and come home. It was fun to imagine their correspondence and decision making.

The Dakotas will always have an imprint on my life, not only because of my grandad’s legacy, but due to my own time there over 100 years later. Writing this book became a way for me to to not only tell part of Clyde and Anna’s story, but to reflect on my own.

Here’s a preview from The Prologue of
Dakota Dreams and Hoosier Homeland:

When Clyde awoke on that early autumn day, he sensed the smell of smoke in the air. By now he had been on the prairie long enough to have heard about the dangers of prairie fires. Following the alert his senses gave him, he quickly went outside to scan the horizon.  To the southwest he saw a plume of smoke rising from above the land. It was the Lucas Johansen place. Lightning from the early morning storm must have ignited the fire.

Clyde wasted no time. He quickly dressed, grabbed an old blanket from his home, stepped into his boots and put on his hat, then high tailed it down the two-track from his place to the Johansen’s.  He jogged more than walked the ½ mile to their farm and saw on his arrival that the fire lay south beyond the homestead and barn lot.

Thankfully, Lucas and his brothers had already harvested the wheat crop earlier in the season, but the fire was making it’s way through the wheat stubble, threatening to move into the portion of the farm where the buildings stood.

Clyde took his place alongside the others, Lucas and Mrs. Johansen; Karl and Hans; Magnus and Marit.  He dipped his blanket into the bucket of water that had been hauled out to the field and commenced to fight back the flames where there was a gap in the line. Soon he was joined by his neighbor and good friend, Thomas O’Brien, who had also seen and smelled the smoke, and come to help.

The danger of prairie fires was something that had been expressed to both Clyde and O’Brien upon their arrival in the region.  Sadie Svennson had been the first to school them on this phenomenon once when they had seen evidence of such a fire off in the distance from Arnegard.

The arid nature of the climate, prevalence of wind, ample availability of surface fuel and ignition caused by lightning from summer storms often came together as a perfect storm for this particular disaster.  Too many homesteaders had been driven to ruin by such a prairie fire in the past, meaning that everyone came to the fore when such an event sparked nearby.  You never knew if you, your family and your farm might be the next victim.

So, in the best sense of the tradition behind the name “Dakota”, you went to help your “friends”.  You became an “ally” on the prairie, looking to assist in any way you could to get the fire under control, or to at least protect the farmer’s home and farm buildings, livestock and equipment.

After a grueling couple of hours fighting back the flames, the crew working against the Lucas’ Johansen prairie fire got the upper hand.  Assisted by the decline of the wind and consummation of the available fuel, the fire began to play out.  The fact that Karl and Hans had taken their work horses and plowed firebreaks into the field was likely the ultimate difference between winning and losing that day.

Clyde was grateful he had been able to lend a hand. But the event gave him pause. Once again, he was mindful of just how difficult this life on the northern prairie could be. There were so many challenges that could arise – insects, fire, wind, storms, drought.  He knew with winter on the horizon that some of the most challenging days were still to come.

“Come to de house for a drink of vater, Clyde Cash”, called Mrs. Johansen. “Ve vant to thank ye for coming to our aid today.”

So, Clyde joined the others to quench his thirst.  Mrs. Johansen brought out some sour dough bread with jam, as well. And the soot covered homesteaders, from oldest to youngest paused to give thanks for God’s protection and deliverance that day.

This was Lucas’ Johansen’s prayer:

“Ve tank dee Lord God for die deliverance. Yee brought us friends and family to fight back de flames and save our home. Indeed, as your Good Book says, ‘de flame sal not consume you’.”

As he went back home to pick up the chores of the day on his own homestead, Clyde continued to marvel at his neighbor’s demeanor.  The devout Lutheran Norwegian was something of an enigma to Clyde. He could be gruff, blunt and even standoffish. But other times his true metal and character, including his faith, shone about as bright as anything Clyde had experienced. 

Thinking then of the others who were part of that morning’s fire fighting crew, Clyde smiled to himself about the diverse cast of characters he had met on the North Dakota prairie. He knew he had another story to write to Anna about in his next letter.

© Daniel M. Cash 2025

You can place your order for the paper back or e-book version of Dakota Dreams and Hoosier Homeland now.

For more information or to receive email notices about my writing you can subscribe to my blog or substack page.

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Halt the Summer Postmortem!

The end of summer’s lifespan has been once again vastly overstated.  Do not write her obituary just yet.  As we move into this third full week of September, and the meteorological end of the summer season is in full view, she has arisen!

We can feel the brush of her high 80’s hot air and bask in the bake of her high noon sun. Sure, the color of the palate has changed – highlighting browns and yellows now, but where sprinklers sputter the grass is yet bright green and growing.

Hummers and Monarchs may be preparing for migration, and who can say about the geese of Canada?  Most of them are now year-round pests. Sunflowers are still blooming, as are zinnias; and sedums are coming into their own.  This can be true even as the coneflower and black-eyed-Susan have gone the way of the day lily and iris.

A bike ride in the countryside shows soybean fields more yellow than green, and some even a crisp brown. The exception being the second crop group that grows green yet – shadowing out it’s wheat stubble bed.  

Some of the early corn has already been picked. Birds flutter out of otherwise drying corn fields, brown from the bottom up, as I ride past. They seem to say, “leave me be while I catch a late summer nap.”

The sun will set a fraction of time earlier this evening, and the rise just a tad later come morn.  We may awaken to temps in the 50’s, but they will be short-lived, climbing higher by the hour, like summer herself who has made a comeback.

It’s a last week, maybe two, in which to remember vacation days, holidays, pool and beach days, or fishing at the pond.  It’s a “Minnesota goodbye” summer offers – first from the front room, then the foyer, out the door and onto the porch, and finally from the drive.  “Come again” we say, “when you can stay longer next time.”
© Daniel M. Cash 2025

#bikeridephotography #backyardphotography

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Why I Joined the Church Choir

The last time I sang in a formal, organized four-part choir I was a senior in high school.  That was forty-three years ago!  I was a semi-jock in high school – the starting 3 guard on the basketball team – so my singing in the choir was a bit of a surprise to some of my peers. Athletes and artsy folk didn’t mix too much in our school.

But I had grown up learning to sing in our church choir, sort of absorbing how to read music and sing bass next to my older brother, Dad and some of the other men of the church. I liked it. And with a free period in my senior class schedule, joining the high school choir was a good choice for me. I still remember some of the choral anthems we sang, and I appreciated our high school choir teacher. He picked good music and led with enthusiasm.

As a pastor I always found singing was my way of worshipping. I enjoyed preaching, but that was my work. Singing was my chance to participate with the congregation in worship. I would usually stand behind the pulpit and the song leader and add my voice with gusto to the congregational offerings. 

It wasn’t always a great contribution. I became a bit of a freelance singer over the years.  I was even known to sing a few measures in a sermon if the mood struck and song fit my theme. I had watched a former preacher of ours do this with great effect as a child.

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Meanness Unchecked Leads to More Meanness

It is sad to watch our nation turn into a meaner and more isolated version of itself.  But this is clearly what is happening under the current administration.  Despite the provision in the U.S. Constitution for three co-equal branches of government (legislative, judicial and executive) it seems that two of the three (especially the legislative) have mostly chosen to look the other way while the executive who occupies the people’s house remakes things in his own selfish, mean-spirited likeness. This is contrary to the founders desire that these branches serve as a check to balance the weight of influence and power.

Politics has always been dirty business, and I am sure we could point to periods of history that were fraught with decisions, actions and words filled with vitriol and unproductive outcomes. But surely this time in history will prove to have rivaled them, if we survive it intact and are afforded the opportunity to look back on it one day.

One of the simple lessons that may be most prominent is something we all should have learned in our primary education: meanness unchecked just leads to more meanness.

Do you remember this lesson from the schoolyard? The class bully who was given a free pass on unsavory behavior always took that as permission to increase said behavior. Worse yet, was when the bully garnered a following of kids who praised and fed that behavior. They did this by pouring flattery on the misdeeds of one who showed no conscience or sense of fairness. There’s nothing a bully needs more than to be flattered and made the center of attention.

It seems to me that we are witnessing this today on a much grander scale as national and even world leaders acquiesce to the whims and whiplash actions of an executive who feels he has a blank slate from which to wreak havoc on others. In just a few short months, having doubled down on experience gained from occupying the seat of power once before, this executive has challenged, and somehow blown past, almost every check on his office. It’s as if he can’t quite believe the people gave him the keys to the office again. Neither can I. One thing is certain he isn’t going to give them back without a fight.

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