My father in law has been in Pakistan for a month. He comes back next week. He goes every year, for about a month, it is integral to his being- he needs to go, but the truth is he can't handle being gone.
The calls start from the airport, before he's even en route. "How are the girls? Oh they sound so big!" He calls everyday- just as he would if he weren't away. Night for him is our day time, he stays up late so he can hear H tell him about her day at school (more than she tells me, by the way) so he can listen to S try out her new words and listen to her point to things over the phone.
Today I looked at the girls and thought, good God he is going to freak out when he sees them. They have gotten so big. Again. They have gone on a simultaneous growing spurt- you would think I would come to recognise these things by the amount of food trafficking around here- but I am never up to speed. I get sucked into the grocery vortex and by the time I come to the girls are bigger.
I am grateful to tears that they have him in their lives. My heart grows and hurts a bit. One of my favorite things is to watch my father in law with his grandchildren. He wears head bands. He paints toenails. He does anything they ask without hesitation. He adores them, its magic, really.