VISITING THE GRANDS

JANE & STEPHEN PHINNEY: Then, through the sea of emotions, we saw them. At first, just a blur of movement—nine beloved grandchildren darting forward, one great grand, and one gorgeous, glowing mother.

A GRAND REUNION

Our travels were buzzing with the usual chaos—luggage wheels rattling, hurried footsteps echoing, and voices overlapping in a symphony of reunions. But Jane and I stood still, our hearts pounding in our chests, Jane’s fingers clenched tightly around the handle of the door of the van. Four years. Four years of missed birthdays, holidays spent alone, and video calls that never quite filled the aching void.

Then, through the sea of emotions, we saw them. At first, just a blur of movement—nine beloved grandchildren darting forward, one great grand, and one gorgeous, glowing mother trailing behind. And then their faces—those precious faces—eyes wide with delight, then pure, unfiltered joy.

“Opa, Oma!”

Those words hit us like a tidal wave, stealing our breath before the tide of emotions crashed over both of us. Arms wrapped around us—small and sturdy, clinging with the desperation only children could muster when they see the faces of their grandparents - something eternally precious. Our eldest grandchild stood back for a moment, holding her own child, eyes shimmering, before finally breaking through the mass of greeters and wrapping the two of us up in an embrace just as fierce.

Jane and I teared up—right there in the middle of the driveway—against the warmth of their embrace, feeling their little arms squeeze tighter. We cupped their faces, tracing the changes—the subtle shift in their cheekbones, the new freckles, the height that had crept up when we weren’t looking.

Each clamored, “I missed you so much,” they shouted, their voices raw, full, brimming with all the love they had stored away in silence.

“We missed you more,” we said, nearly in unison, our voices cracking, eyes damp.

Joy danced in every tear that slipped down our faces. The years apart, the longing, the pain—it all melted away in this moment, in the way they clung to us like we were the most important grandparents in the world. And to them—we were.

We both took a deep breath, pulling back just enough to meet their eyes. “Let’s go enjoy our time together.”

And we did—together, whole again.

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Yes, it had been four long years since seeing our grandchildren of our eldest daughter. Due to schedules, finances, and other interruptions, our long overdue visit kept us physically apart.

Four years apart had stretched the bonds of family into painful longing, each missed moment carving deeper into the ache of absence. Time had marched forward relentlessly—holidays spent with empty chairs at the table, birthdays marked by distant phone calls instead of warm embraces, milestones celebrated but never truly shared.

The reunion with our daughter and grandchildren was not just a meeting; it was the mending of time, the reclaiming of love that had been forced to exist in memories and messages rather than touch and presence. Every hug, every tear, every whispered “I missed you” was a testament to how overdue this moment was—how desperately we had needed to hold them close again, to fill the spaces left empty for too long!

PART TWO coming your way soon!