In September 2013, I left. I was gone basically the whole year. Dave was alone and he was the sole caretaker and guardian. During this time, my mom and his mom stepped up admirably.
They babysat, sent him home with endless leftovers, and supported him in any way that they could. I can't speak for Dave, but I will never forget what they did for him and for my kids.
Grandmas are amazing. They fill a role that no one else can and they give a brand of unconditional, self-sacrificing love that even mothers can't quite achieve. They do this while not having the same rights and privileges that parents do and usually when they're at an age where they've earned the right to some rest.
My mother in law, in particular, still works full time and she's back in colleges. And she still had time to pick up the ball when I dropped its my own mother, while retired, has a ton of health problems and she takes care of her own mother.
I can't imagine that helping Dave last year was easy. Moreover, I can't imagine it's been easy to say goodbye to the boys and watch me step back into their lives. I won't pretend to know the hearts of these two women. I won't pretend to understand them. I don't. I've never been able to understand either of them. But I love them.
I love them because of the women that they are and the women that they've helped me to become. Both of them have had a profound influence on my adulthood and my sobriety. But most of all, I love them for loving my boys when I failed them. I love them for holding my family and then handing them back to me, graciously.
There's no love like the love of a grandmother.
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