Grandparents

I adore how often my kids get to visit with their grandparents.  I love that even though we live 1400 miles apart we get together four times a year.  Twice a year we make the trek to Wisconsin (the coldest and the hottest times of the year).  And twice a year they make the trek to Utah (the most mild and beautiful times of the year, but I digress . . . )

Still, every time I watch the kids loving up their grandma and grandpa my heart breaks just a little for the grandma and grandpa that they will never know except through pictures and stories.  I wonder what they would have called my parents (Papa and Mimi, perhaps?) and how their interactions would have gone.  I am not jealous, just grieving, and ever thankful for the grandparents that we do have.