Parasailing

When my grandson, Wilder, was born, I drove up from Florida to Utica, NY, to pick up his half brother, Brandyn. We drove to NYC with excited anticipation. When we arrived, we were not welcome. We did get to meet Wilder and get some sleep, but it was not a bonding time for any of us.

When Wilder was two, he came to visit me with his father, Rob. His two uncles - Russ and Randy, and Brandyn came too. We all had a fine time.

Five or six years later, Wilder and his mother, Cassandra, lived in Texas. Rob was visiting them and they called me on the phone. I talked to Wilder, who was not very receptive. I would say something to which he responded, "Whatever."

So, I finally said to him, "You may want to get to know me someday. When you are ready, I will be happy to have you in my life."  A good cry eccompanied the letting go process and I left that moment in my heart space as a promise.

Wilder is now fourteen and is visiting me for a week. We have been having a great time.

Sunday, we went parasailing.  There we were one thousand feet in the air floating in the sky over the ocean. I reflected on our journey and on the promise in my heart space that had finally become a flower in full bloom. Although my image of this moment was not one of hanging out in the air like this, it nevertheless was a precious and priceless dream come true.

Three generations later. We are family.

All of us have those memories of estrangement and eventual reunion.
What has been your experience?