It was the late 1960s, during my high school years, I was in a class.  I do not remember which class, but I do clearly remember a discussion about what love means.

You can love your spouse and you can love the Green Bay Packers.  Both are clearly not the same kinds of love.  The dictionary has 2 definitions of love:  “an intense feeling of deep affection” and “a great interest and pleasure in something.”

The second definition comes under the heading of loving the Green Bay Packers.  But I would argue the first definition is much more nuanced.  Affection has many different levels.

I love my mom and I love my father even though he left us 26 years ago.  I love my siblings.  I also have a special kind of love for my extended family like cousins, nephews, nieces, and on and on.

I learned that there is a different level of love one has for a spouse.  My love for Jane is special having her as my wife.  I never take that for granted.

The love I have for my daughters is another special type of love.  It started when they came into the world 26 years years ago and has not changed even as they are adults and are married.

My maternal grandmother Alice Kidwell lived to be 99 years of age and she possessed a wealth of wisdom about life.  She once told me that being a parent is a wonderful experience but being a grandparent is something very special.

I lived that observation from my grandmother two months ago when my first grandchild was born, Dakota Mitchell Lewis.  He is loved in a very special way I could not understand before he was born.

My daughter Allison, son-in-law Jacob and grandson Dakota (we call him “Kota”) all live in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, a very nice community of about 180,000 people in southeast corner of the state, near Iowa & Minnesota.  It is a very long day’s drive from Fishers.

I just finished my third trip to see all three – Allison, Jacob and Kota.  I am living exactly what my grandmother explained to me many years ago, experiencing the love of a grandchild.

Being a grandparent is a special kind of love I could not know or fully understand until Kota was born.  It is a joy that is hard to explain to someone not yet a grandparent.

I realize there are many subjects I could be writing about on this October Sunday.  Election campaigns and other issues are before us locally.  But I just found this to be the best time to write about love.

So, I have found what a grandparent’s love is all about.  I cannot wait to see Kota grow as the years go by.