Ten months ago, I became a grandparent and wrote a post about what that felt like to me. The link to the post is below.
These past five days my wife and I had our grandson Max living with us, enabling our daughter and son-in-law to attend a good friend’s destination wedding.
One of the grandparent cliches is that it’s the best of all worlds, because when you get tired you can give your grandchild back to their parents. Yes, you can, and of course you should if you want to stay on good terms with your children and on the proper side of the law.
That said, after we returned Max this morning, I missed having him. Missed his smiles. Missed his many varieties of laughter, my favorite one sounding like a pterodactyl from Jurassic Park. Missed watching him eating Cheerios and the suspense of whether they would get into his mouth or land elsewhere. Missed his fascination with the book “Good Night Moon,” his keen interest being turning the pages rather than the plot, such as it is.
So returning our grandchild was not that easy for me.
With love comes loss.
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Expectant Grandfather, Actual Grandfather
In August, I wrote a post about being an expectant grandfather. Now that our daughter delivered our grandson Max on November 9th, I wanted to do a quick followup post. As the due date approached and then arrived, my stress level increased. My sole focus was on a healthy outcome (not for me as I nervously consumed un unmentionable number of Mallomars).
I wish I could say I know this feeling - and I know I can't wait to be blessed with grandkids at some point in the future. Thanks for sharing David!
Thanks Noha!