Watching my grandson grow is bittersweet. So many things remind me and re-live within my memories of my son — his curious and imaginative nature. From slaying a dragon to transforming into a t-rex, he is who he becomes. He can fly in the sky or float on a cloud. His creative energy shows through with such animation; I know that he will and can be whoever he chooses as he grows. He’s so independent yet if something threatens the safety of his three-year-old world, he does not hesitate to come running, arms wide open for a cuddle: a safe word or much-needed hug.
For me being a grandma is a chance to re-visit what I miss: re-teach lessons and guide growth. Help mold his character while nurturing his personality. Letting him step away but always there to step up should he need me.
Being reminded where my son started and where he is now has made this especially hard. I’m torn with my emotions. Half the time I cherish these moments with my grandson and the other half are just a tragic reminder of what was. Expectations of what I was sure would be a beautiful life I’ve had to accept now was never mine to have.
I wish this were as easy with my son. Now I’m forced to step back and let my son experience his life for what it is now.
I think that is the most significant misleading notion as parents that we have. Assuming they will and can live up to what we believe they will be. I have learned success is in the eye of the beholder and is different for most.
Some chase a career. Some want the American dream. I simply want a happy, healthy son who loves himself as much as I love him. To me, that would be a success.
In the meantime, I will cherish my grandson and all the ways he is my son and appreciate as I hold him, I am keeping my son a little bit closer.

For B…I love you!