Tuesday, January 22, 2013

The Rest of the Story




Because...well...there always is one.

The Matching Tattoos? The Timing?  The oldest son has a wonderful job opportunity. Hopefully, a career maker. Couple this with the fact that he has been wandering aimlessly (and at times self-destructively) since the divorce...and it makes perfect sense. Is wonderful.

The catch.

 An over 1500 mile relocation. Hard on the "grands". Impossible for their Moms to comprehend. And difficult for me, as well. So used to seeing each other about once a week...forever. With all the technology available to us...it still doesn't take the place of your kid's hug.

 ~sigh~

 The breaking news was chaotic. Met with anger on the part of the kids Moms...and disbelief (and yes...anger) on my part. Nobody accepts a big change with a smile.
 Ever.

 But we don't love our children just when the sun shines. In fact, the darkest days are usually when they need us the most. And they don't live their lives to meet our specifications.Perhaps, when the dust settles this will benefit the kids, financially. Perhaps, it will give them summer memories with their Dad in the ocean and on a beach. Perhaps, I will travel to see him later, as well. It is too early to know.

But for today, and for always...no matter where we are...we can look at the little trampoline dude...bounce him up and down a couple times...and remember the love and laughter of that afternoon together. And all of the others we spent over 25 years. A way of reaching acceptance. Of making an impossible situation a little more possible.

 Of saying (and meaning)

"I wish you only the best."

Hoping the adults (-my son included-) will all take a deep breath and say/do what is best for their children. Words in anger can be horribly destructive. And there have been many. We are all human. 

Knowing I will be there for my "grands" in any way possible.

Breathing.
And with a bounce or three of the trampoline...even smiling, again.






 
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.



                                                         Kahlil Gibran