The Conflict

In 2012, I forced my wife, against her will, to move back to Illinois from Texas. She dearly loved Texas. I did it for one reason---Carson Andrew Dreith, now eight years old, my first grandchild. Since then I have been blessed with four more Dreith grandchildren. They all live two hours away in Bethalto.

I moved back because I thought it was important. Either we become cherished memories in our grandchildren’s lives, or merely a branch in their genealogy.

The question today is….when is it once again wise to become part of their lives? I haven’t seen them—in person--- in about two-and-a-half months. I’m not getting younger…

I don’t want to infect them. I don’t want them to infect me, but I can’t figure out when it is responsible to go see them….or have them come see me.

And it burdens me.

If I follow the Governor’s five stage plan I might get to go to Carson’s high school graduation…or his son’s.

So here’s what I think will happen. I’m giving this thing another month. If there is an outbreak at either town, things might get kicked back. If things remain the same, I think it is worth the risk.

At the moment, responsibility outweighs the ache in my heart to see them on their birthdays and other special occasions. Sadly, I won’t be taking pictures of them playing Little League baseball this summer.

So, two months into the pandemic….my brain and my heart are clearly at odds.