Every Other Weekend

There are some things that hurt too much to talk about. You know what I mean. You start to talk and the lump in your throat swells until it feels as big as a goose egg. Your eyes fill with tears and the ache in your heart hurts so bad you’d do anything to make it go away,

Writing has always been my therapy and it’s helped me through a lot of tough times, but I can’t write about everything that happens in my life because to do so would be an invasion of my family’s privacy and trust. So while I won’t tell you the details or the reasons why, I will tell you that one of the hardest things in my life is being an every other weekend nana.

One of the reasons for this site is to rejoice in the joys of being a grandmother and I do, but I think it’s only fair that you know the truth about me and the truth is there’s a constant ache in my heart when it comes to my granddaughter.  Anytime a couple divorces everyone connected to them hurts, but when the divorced couple have children that pain is intensified. My granddaughter was not yet two years old when my son and his wife divorced.

I love Sundays, going to church, and having my family near but every other Sunday night I ride with my son to take my granddaughter home because she wants nana to go. We talk a lot on the way over but the car is always silent on the way home. There are too many “might have beens” and “I wish” in the car with us. They leave no room for words.

I know that the smart thing to do is focus on the positives: and there are many.

*We live close to my grandchild. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for my friend Connie whose grandchildren are growing up overseas.

*My grandchild has two sets of families who love her, care for her and watch out for her best interests. Both parents love my granddaughter as well as both sets of grandparents and even one set of great-grandparents. She has a host of aunts and uncles who adore her as well. In a world that sometimes seems short on love, my granddaughter has an ample supply.

*She is a happy, well adjusted child and transitions easily from one house to the next.

For all those things I am so very thankful but that doesn’t make goodbyes any easier.

Last night when we dropped her off she looked at me and asked me if I would miss her this week.

I hugged her tight and fought back tears.

“More than words can say, sweetheart,” I said, hugged her close and watched her daddy carry her to the house.

More than words can say.