Grandchildren, not mine May 25, 2017

Most folks who make it to retirement age have grandchildren on the brain.  They either have grandchildren and dote on them, or they want grandchildren to dote on.

I have to confess that until recently the idea of a grandchild was not something I spent time pondering.  After all, my own daughter is only 23 and not yet in a position to take on this challenge.  But I am starting to appreciate how powerful this draw can be, and I am letting in a little hope - just a little - that maybe someday such a blessing will come my way too.

My sister Mary has two grandchildren now, Misha, age 4, and Sula, about to turn 1.  Mary lives about 15 minutes away from them, by choice, and is able to see them several times a week.  I see how these little ones have taken hold of her heart and how such joy has enabled her to weather a divorce when it moved her to be closer to them. 

Last weekend the nephew of my first husband visited Point Reyes with his wife and their two-year old son.  How fun to see the little guy pet and feed horses for the first time, to go to the ocean, and to run away from the waves.  And how odd a feeling it was to be there with my first husband, with whom I had no children, waving goodbye to that next generation and the next after that – not ours to claim as our own, but with love and hope for their future.