My parents had one grandchild... my nephew. They hung all of their hopes on him. He broke their hearts. He got into some things he shouldn't have... he should have known better. He has made his bad decisions, apparently with no consideration whatsoever of how they would affect those who love him. He has all but abandoned the family that gave him everything and has squandered more opportunities in his 21 years than most people ever even get in a lifetime. It makes me wonder if all of this would have been easier on my parents had they had other grandchildren? If I had given them other outlets for their love and generosity, would this pain have stung just a little bit less? I guess, we'll never know. In some ways I feel guilty about it.
Part of me is sad that they didn't have other grandchildren. Part of me is thankful they (and all of us) didn't have more opportunites for disappointment. You never know how people are going to turn out, despite all your best efforts. I suppose the same could be said for life in general--- there are no guarantees of anything. Deep thoughts for a rainy Monday morning.