Grandkids: the ultimate consolation prize

Item One: A cheery disposition

Goodbyes suck. I have never been one to embrace change, but when it happens, I handle it really well. Like a colicky infant.

The beginning of the end. Take for instance our taking Courtney up to college a little over five years ago. Millions of parents engage in their children's rite of passage, only to find out it is THEIR rite of passage too. After a 15 hour road trip, we pulled up to Court's new apartment building in Rexburg, and were met by student volunteers stationed in the parking lot to help unload SUVs and minivans full of new student stuff. As we hopped out of our vehicle, students in blue polos descended on us like locusts and bada-bing, Court was all moved in.

Unlimited . . . my future is unlimited!

We toured the campus with her, and there were more students in blue shirts strategically positioned all over the place to not only direct us where we needed to go, but to accompany us to make sure we got there. Tracy and I were pretty darn impressed, and felt like our little bundle of joy would be well cared for here. (Sensing any separation anxiety?)

We grabbed a bite, then walked Court into her apartment to drop her off, and all of a sudden the moment to say goodbye came crashing in, as a complete and utter surprise. 18 years of constant presence, late night movies, Broadway musical quips, having her friends over, kisses on the cheek after every goodnight prayer. . . seemed to pass right before our eyes. And the look of sadness and uncertainty on Court's face was unforgettable as we did our best to boost her up. With big smiles, because "it's what you wear from ear to ear, and not from head to toe that matters."

Ask me how the drive home was. (Don't ask Tracy, the wound may still be fresh.)

Six months later she would be married.

I knew that day would come, but geez, first semester?? Pithy sayings like, "When it's right, it's right" and "Everything happens for a reason" are fine and all that, until it "happens" close to home. Her husband Tommy is a terrific guy who would pop a dude in the mouth if he offended Courtney, but we just thought we had more time. Like ten years.

I remember the day Tracy called me at work to tell me that Court had met someone, (sort of like remembering where you were when Kennedy was shot) and this was someone I ought to be nice to. I seriously have no idea what she meant, I am friggin' delightful to all the boys my daughters date.

You're really not a bit the gawkish girl that once you were . . .

The wedding and reception were the stuff of magic, I may blog on that some day, but the day after the wedding? Sucked. The months of planning were over, the successful event had concluded, the AMEX was maxed, so the only thing that remained was the exodus. Jake was just 9, and Court had helped care for the kid since the day she cut his umbilical cord; so watching her say goodbye to Jake as he slept in bed, stroking his hair, well, add that to the list of things that sucked.

Fast forward a few years.

Grandchildren. There is something really special that happens when you lock eyes for the first time with your first grandchild. I can't explain it, but in that moment, I knew that I was destined to be one of those stereotypical boors who shoved pictures of their grandkids in other people's faces. I jokingly tell people what I heard my dad say about grandkids, "I wish I would have had them first!"

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens . . .

Grandma's House. Why is it never "Grandpa's house?" One thing I quickly learned when becoming a grandpa is that being a grandma is a different order of magnitude entirely. While I love the heck out of those kids, Tracy's connection is worlds above mine. Parents may be equally yoked, but move up a level and it is grandma driving that train. THAT is why it is called "Grandma's house." I have to think it is an instinctual or perhaps a spiritual thing, because this was instant and powerful.

Being there right after Evangeline was born, and for the next two weeks, was wonderful for Tracy. Being in the room when Alice was born, well there was probably no better experience in the life of this young grandma. (You reading this, Lindsey?) But I think it was Tracy's role in mothering her baby in this fragile circumstance, more than the introduction of the newest family member, that made the experience precious. Not to mention Tommy's generosity in allowing that to happen.

Which makes the goodbyes a tougher pill to swallow! Below is the end of the two weeks Tracy spent with Court. That was one rough sayonara.

Ask me about the drive home.

I love you that's why I, say "Cheerio," not goodbye . . .

Unexpected blessings. Something unexpected I experienced as a grandpa is the joy at seeing how your child and her child interact. Watching Court dote over her babies, and watching her babies respond to their mama, is one of life's great treasures.

One more cool thing is experiencing a child who wants to share their child with you. I would hold and play with the baby selfishly all day long if allowed to, and I could see that Court appreciated that bonding. I sensed that it was important to Courtney for me to love her kids. (As if there was a choice!) Being a grandpa is an honor.

Change? Still hate it. Goodbyes? Still suck. But with consolation prizes like these, I think saying adios to Linds and Jake will have the perspective of a silver lining. (Look for future whining when we become empty nesters.)

Yeah, you've got a friend in me

PS. We are as of this date officially over the loss, in fact, it is a net gain.  The great plan is in affect, and we are living happily ever after.