When you have children you cross a lot of bridges as they grow up. First night they sleep through until morning, first steps, first day of school, first time they sleep over night at a friend's house. Watching them join their first soccer or Little League team and cheering from the sidelines. The first time they walk to school alone, learn to ride their two-wheeler, take over mowing the lawn, go on a first date.
And of course the bigger bridges - graduation from high school, going off to college or moving away from home. Finding that special someone and getting married….starting families of their own. All of these are part of the natural progression of growing up. But each bridge successfully crossed means they've moved just a little farther away from you. It's as it should be, but sometimes I remember watching our two cross a bridge with a huge lump in my throat. A mixture of pride and melancholy I guess.
When our first grandson was born I drove from Delaware to Massachusetts to meet him. He was about four days old and I drove up in order to help out for a few days. Holding that little bundle brought back memories of carrying his father home from the hospital - our first child. Dave and I had been married just thirteen months when Todd arrived and frankly we didn't know what the heck we were doing.
But he turned out just fine! And there I was, years later, holding his first little boy. The warmth, the armful, the new baby scent, the new baby noises. Gramma Heaven.
And now this young man has a driver's license and his first used car.
Another bridge crossed on the way to the future. Sadly this grandson lives way across the country and we don't get to see him often enough at all. But we enjoy his accomplishments long distance and are, of course, proud of the young man he's becoming. On his way to adult-hood….doesn't seem like he has much farther to go!
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