My husband Barry is kind, loving, attentive, generous and all around wonderful.

As a Dad, multiply all of this by, well, a zillion. As a Grandpa, there is no number or word big or beautiful enough to describe his love. BUT (isn’t there always a BUT when it comes to kids?)… there seems always to be that ONE time that something WASN’T done that causes a volcanic kid-meltdown.

25 years ago it was Jane. Today, it was Alex. In both instances, Daddy/Pop-up didn’t wave as he hopped into his car. (Now, of course he DID wave, but the child happened at that fraction of a second NOT to see it.)

I still remember picking up Janie from pre-school. I was greeted with a drawing. Jane’s. She had missed Daddy’s daily wave. She cried. She asked her teacher for drawing paper so she could show just how sad she was that Daddy had forgotten to wave. I explained to her that Daddy had waved hundreds, even thousands of times, and I am sure that he had waved on that morning… yes, I tried to reason with a 3-year old. She didn’t buy it. But this little story has turned into one of our family favorites to tease Janie with.

Today, it happened again. Different child. Different generation. Same man. Same feeling.

Barry had made a special stop at Dunkin’ Donuts this morning for Alex’s favorite… a maple frosted doughnut with colored sprinkles. The joy was palpable! Audrey doesn’t often allow this treat for breakfast, but today is Halloween. Why not start off with a sugar frenzy, yes!?

Anyway, Pop-up stayed. He had his coffee with the boys. He hugged. He kissed. He colored.

But then Pop-up had to leave for work. He hugged and kissed some more. He left. The boys ran to the window to wave.

Then the crying began. Alex seems to believe that Grandpa didn’t wave specifically to HIM.

Ah. History. Isn’t there something about “repeating itself”?