Separation

He's gone and I understand why which isn't to say I like it one bit. We talk about spoiling our grandchildren but the truth is I was the spoiled granddad or as Kaden was learning to call me "Grandcos." Mimi and Grandcos were spoiled to see the little feller every two or three weeks. Now it's going to be every three to four months if we're lucky. Better job, more help with an active 2 yr old for Melissa, nicer home, better future, yeah, yeah, yeah, etc, etc. Like I said, I know why they left and they have our blessing, I just wish it wasn't so far. I've never been separated from Kaden for more than about 70-75 minutes. It hurts. It's all normal. I'm now going to be a normal parent and grandparent who sees the kids and grandkids on special trips, vacations, and some holidays. I hate normal. Our previous normal was meeting in Ft. Worth for lunch now and then, our going to Weatherford for the afternoon here and there, or their coming out to our home. Kaden had been here enough to know when Mimi was baking something to run into the kitchen for a "bite, bite" of something "numa, numa" (yummy). He knew where the basketball was, where the dvd's were, and the drums were (pots, pans, long spoons) and that Grandcos would let him play on the computer or with his phone. Now the computer and phone are our main ways of communication and keeping in touch and the separation hurts. I could no more explain the feeling Mimi and Grandcos have for their grandchild any more than any other grandparent could for theirs. It's all but impossible to explain but the experience is life-changing and enriching like no other. Mimi would hum Vivaldi's "Spring" since he was really little and he learned to hum it back and wave his arm like he was leading the orchestra. Since he learned to walk at about nine months, Kaden has wrapped his hand around Grandcos' finger and led him anywhere he wanted to go. Grandcos rarely said "no." We laughed, giggled, chased, tickled, hid, played "giddy-up horsey," played "ba-ball" with a golf club, and walked "side'' (outside) and when he wore Mimi out he would switch to Grandcos or vice-versa. My finger aches to be wrapped by a tiny hand, my ankle longs to be banged with a plastic golf club, and my knee saddle is missing its rider and the separation is killing me. Separation. God knows what I feel. It occurs to me, to an exponentially small degree, that I now know what God the Father must have felt when the ones He loved were separated from him, not by a moving van but by their own sin. We shall end our separation from children and grandchild when time, money, and schedules allow us to travel to Farmington or have them come to us for visits. God, who spared no expense, scheduled in the fullness of time the Visitation to end the separation and thus we have become the visited planet, and now nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. Oh...ouch, but Oh.... Separation. Its a bad thing. But thanks be to God, it's not an eternal thing. Terry