Kim Wilbanks

I knew it was coming. It was just a matter of time. I told my husband it was coming and that it would be a game-changer when it did. 

The “it” happened last Friday when my phone dinged with a text from our son. 

“Leo asked me if Grams and Grandaddy were coming to farm school with him today.”

You see, we were with our grandson the week before, and we went to farm school with him.

His mom, other grandmother, and aunt took a girls’ trip for the weekend, so my husband and I went to Nashville to help with the grandsons. At the last minute, our son and daughter-in-law decided it would be best to let baby brother go with Mom, so it was just a Leo trip.

Besides going to farm school, where he strung noodles, fed chickens, and painted a concrete hut, we went to soccer practice, the playground, and several kid-friendly restaurants. Sunday meant church and then the Farmers Market, where he picked out a miniature succulent for his mom. We played hours of ball, switching from soccer, to football, to baseball, to whiteball—a balloon type of ball. We stacked blocks, played with cars, and sorted everything. It was a typical toddler weekend filled with typical toddler activities.

The ladies and baby Wells returned to town just in time to meet for dinner at a favorite Mexican restaurant. I had not seen Wells in a couple of months, so I was happy to see him. When I approached to greet him, he looked at me with that judgmental look only a baby can give—that look that says, “Who are you?” I had flashbacks to the scene in Disney’s Alice in Wonderland when Alice meets the caterpillar. (Google it if you haven’t seen it in a while).

I’m so thankful our older grandson, Leo, knows who we are now, but it was a process. He was always happy for us to hold him, especially his grandaddy. When he was about a year old, he would grin when we walked up the sidewalk for a visit. He seemed to sense we were special—his people. Hearing him say Grandaddy and Grams thrilled our hearts. It didn’t bother me that “Grandaddy” came out perfectly clear while “Grams” was a little garbled. But the feeling that the simple question from my son’s text message caused was what I expected. It could be a game-changer in this grandparenting journey.

Things I am Pondering:

• Do you stay in a place because there are so many memories, or do you leave because there are so many memories?
• Do you settle for what is safe, comfortable, and familiar, or do you embrace a new adventure?
• Do you trade hurricanes for tornadoes?
• What would bring me the most joy?
• How do I want to end?
• What if it’s the worst thing we could do?
• What if it’s the best thing we could do?
• What if it just is? 
• Am I overthinking?

This one thing I know—it is my heart’s desire that one day, when one of my grandsons asks if Grams and Grandaddy are going to be there, the answer will be an emphatic YES!