Real Life

In less than a week, I’ll be 49 years old. That half century mark is getting closer and closer. I’ve been married to the same guy and we’ve raised 6 kids. I look back at the past 30 years of my adult life and I’m amazed at the twists and turns this life has taken. Even more, I’m grateful for my survival. There have been so many wonderful blessings in this life but there have also been a few jolts.

I remember quite well the night I found out I was to be a grandmother. Nick called me from a friend’s house to tell me. He and Brit had broken up just days before and that pregnancy changed everything. Nick was 16; Brit was 18 and had just graduated that very day.

No sense in going back and reliving those weeks following the early pregnancy test. That’s all in the past. What is important is that Nick stepped up to the plate and did the right thing. He went to work full time to help support Brit and the baby. Britanie moved in with us and Nick accepted his role as a father-to-be. He was by Brit’s side through her pregnancy, was there when Kendyll was born. He cut the cord and gave Kendyll her first bath (and all the subsequent ones for the next month). Nick was 17 when Kendyll came into our lives. He was a child, really, living up to a man’s responsibilities. I’m proud to say that Nick accepted those responsibilities with more conviction than many grown men I’ve known. He did the right thing and as a mother, that’s really the best I could hope for.

Britanie, Nick and Kendyll have had two bedrooms upstairs as they worked on their apartment out back. That means that for the past almost-two years, this has been Kendyll’s home. This is where they lived. Our house is plenty big enough for extra people and our hearts and lives were enriched as this family grew.

Last month, Brit and Nick split up. Brit took Kendyll with her. Needless to say, my heart is breaking. Still.

The reasons and sordid details are not important now. Healing is. Nick has be cut deep and is confused. I taught him to do the right thing and now the right thing has broken his heart. But he will heal. Every day, it gets a little easier and hurts a little less.

Now, Kendyll doesn’t live here every day. Brit and Nick have worked out a schedule. I pick Kendyll up on Thursday and take her back to Brit on Sunday night. Eventually, when Nick is not hurting so bad, he’ll be the one to pick up Kendyll. Since I’m the only one of the two parents and four grandparents who doesn’t go out to a job, I’ve made it known that I’m available to babysit beyond the Thursday - Sunday time frame. I try not to plan anything that can’t be changed, so that I won’t miss a chance to spend time with Kendyll.

I know about babies bonding with their mothers. I guess that’s how it always is. Nick was so involved with Kendyll right from the beginning that the bond between the two of them is really quite unbelievable. Watching them hang out together is such a joy. This picture is from this past weekend. This is how it ought to be every day.

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