Parenting is forever

As I walk down the road of life with my grown kids, I am reminded that parenting is never over. It looks way different from when they were younger, but being there for them is a lifelong calling. I'm thankful for the opportunities we've had to be close - not only in geographic proximity, but more importantly, in matters of the heart.

As H & S prepare for the big move, her dad gets to show his love in a practical way by helping get the house ready to sell. On the docket for our upcoming trip is replacing a window, installing a ceiling fan, and enclosing the basement stairs. I hope to help with the less technical jobs like painting. Believe it or not, I am a "trim" person (not a trim person...I was a trim person...once, a long time ago...) - I really like the detail work and seem to have unlimited patience, which makes P and I a good team. When we paint at home, he does the rolling and I do the cutting. Fortunately, our marriage has survived wallpapering, which requires another kind of patience altogether. But I digress...

Dad was also on hand this past weekend to repair H1's car - bless his heart, in the sub-zero temps, he was out in the garage replacing the fuel pump. Yes, it was the same weather that froze out our beloved Packers at Lambeau Field on Sunday evening (sniff). It was almost too painful to watch...

Aaaanyway, I love it that we have moved from having to be responsible for the way they turn out to just being able to be there for them. I talk to my girls almost every single day on the phone, and while P kids me about that (something about an umbillical cord thing), he knows that I treasure the relationships I have with them. We got H & S a webcam for Christmas and look forward to seeing their faces everyday, especially when they move to the UK. I don't want to miss a milimeter, and the boys are already growing so fast.

Funny grandboy story of the day: The contemporary service at H & S's church meets in the gym. When they took the boys in with them on Sunday, C immediately located all the basketball hoops, and being rather obsessed with balls in general, pointed each one out, saying, "nice...nice...nice...". He had to be removed from the premises as the highschool boys nearby were enjoying his commentary more than the service.