When I was a child, my mom worked full-time. So, many of my young memories involve sitting in the backseat of my grandparents car. I’d strain my neck upwards to marvel at the skyscrapers as my grandmother navigated us to the “foot doctor” or whatever doctor appointment my grandfather had that day.
As a child I didn’t understand everything that was happening. I liked spending time with my grandparents, but these trips didn’t seem too enjoyable to them.
Today, as I step into these memories, I can see the worry on my grandfather’s face. I now realize the uncertainty and stress that was belayed upon his heart.
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