Our grandson Cal comes to our house two and sometimes three days a week. I'm at work at least one of those days, so often the only time I get to see him is on Friday.
Fridays are work-from-home days for me. I'll be upstairs in my office when I notice out the window that Terry is pulling into the driveway after picking up Cal. That's my cue to race downstairs, grab Cal's little car (the one pictured above), and meet him and his Grammy at the back door.
Cal gets a big smile when he sees me, partly because we're buddies and partly because he knows he's going to get a ride on the car.
Being only a year old, he can't quite propel himself on it, so it falls to me to put him on the car and push him around the house. Cal loves this. His grin hardly fades the whole time he and I zoom our way through the kitchen, living room and master bedroom.
As Cal and I grow older, the memory of these fun times will stick with us. Or at least I know it will stick with me. With Cal not yet even 14 months old, his brain won't necessarily remember the specifics.
What I hope does stay with him, though, is the idea that coming to his grandparents' house has always been something to look forward to. He will be spoiled, sure, but more than that, he will be loved.
When my kids were little, we used to take them to my mom and dad's house on Wednesdays. That tradition began when Elissa was a baby and I worked nights at The News-Herald while Terry was working days at Lincoln Electric. I would drop Elissa off in the morning so I could run errands, get things done at home, catch up on work, etc.
Mom and Dad kept their Wednesdays open for many years as our family grew. No matter how young or old the kids were, they were always welcomed at Grandma and Grandpa Tennant's house with open arms.
I remember how excited my dad was when the kids arrived on Wednesday mornings. At the time I thought it was sweet but never gave it much thought beyond that. Now I understand far more deeply what he was feeling.
I've said this a lot since Cal was born, but you simply cannot fathom the love of a grandparent for their grandchild until you live it. It's a deep and profound bond that has caught me off guard with its joy and intensity. I love that little guy so much.
Chloe and Michael often say things like, "Is it too much trouble if we bring Cal over for a few hours on Saturday?" Terry and I look at each other and laugh, then one of us replies, "Bring the boy over. And leave him here as long as you want."
One day, Terry and I will have gone on to our greater good, as my friend and former co-worker Kate often says. And one day, Cal may become a father and a grandfather himself. If that happens, I hope he passes on the love he always felt at Grammy and Grandpa Tennant's house to his own little ones.
That's a legacy I hope to leave behind.
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