“Did you see the photo today?”

“It’s a good one!”

“She is so so cute.”

“She’s amazing.”

“She looks like Katie.”

“Incredible. So animated.”

“She looks like Brendan.”

“And smart.”

“And so active!”

“And funny!”

Long-distance grandparenting bonds Tim and me. We often lie in bed at night viewing photos and videos of Eileen: tasting green beans for the first time, hunting for Easter eggs, singing happy birthday, marveling at the tigers at the zoo, talking care of her baby doll, reciting from her dolphin book,  and dancing at weddings. We’ve come to cherish the videos, not only because of Eileen’s vivacious personality, but because we hear Katie’s joyful voice as she parents from across the miles.

Now Eileen is two, and she moved from Seattle to Milwaukee last year. We see her more often, yet we still check daily for updates on Eileen’s private i-Cloud.  Katie, Bobby, and Eileen spent the night with us last night, and this morning, Tim, Eileen, and I looked for mama, papa, and baby deer. Wide-eyed and hushed in the early dawn hours, she watched the mama deer rest in the shade of a River Birch tree. She imitated middle school boys as they skipped flat stones across Lake Michigan’s spectacular shore. Sparkly rocks glistened as she gathered treasures in her tiny fists for her own mama.

Katie, Bobby, and Eileen just left to return to Milwaukee, and as the car pulled away, I did not grieve that they were leaving. Instead, I thank God for the visit.  Sometimes my heart aches for my kids, for Eileen, for the passage of time, but I know the kids have their own lives, and they trust that we have ours. They are doing what we did. They are focusing on providing for their families, building comminuty, learning and growing, establishing and maintaining relationships, navigating commitments, and developing their talents so they can better serve the world.

In the meantime, Eileen provides us with our own glimpse of heaven – pure, authentic love.