"You seem to be doing really well."
Mmmmm. Not totally true. I am managing most of the time. But sometimes one stray comment will pull me down into a spiral.
Yesterday at work one of my coworkers became a grandfather. We were all chatting about it when he brought up how he never knew either of his grandfathers. The relationship is new for him, and he is obviously, blissfully happy.
In that moment, I realized that my husband never knew any of his grandfathers either. They both died before he was born.
I knew and cherished my two grandfathers. My dad's dad played guitar and sang for us songs like, "I can't get off of my horse..." He had huge sausage fingers and was known for being the kindest, most gentle dentist. I lost my first tooth right after he died. I was devastated.
My mom's dad was a sweetheart who laughed at his own jokes. He baked us cakes... yellow cakes with white frosting. He had an easy way of throwing back his head and laughing until he wheezed. I told a joke at his funeral when I was 17.
This is totally cart before the horse-y, but I want my husband to be grandfather. I want him to have the joy of fatherhood and grandfatherhood (a word?). I could see him taking little kids fishing, taking them canoeing, taking them to a candy store.
In order to be grandparents we need to be parents. It's a dream deferred, but I'm still hoping.