Walking the beach alone wasn\u2019t how I wanted to spend that Saturday. I worked hard all week, and I looked forward to the weekends with my family. Unfortunately my grown kids didn\u2019t always want to sit at home with me. I\u2019d hoped by this time in my life I\u2019d have grandkids to visit, but it wasn\u2019t to be.<\/p>\n
I strolled slowly up and down, digging my toes into the wet sand. The smell of the salty air and the roar of the surf soothed me. What a delight it would be to have a little companion on my beach visits. I just have to be patient<\/em>, I told myself. I\u2019ll have grandchildren if and when it\u2019s meant to be.<\/em><\/p>\n I sat down on a sand dune. As I stared at the sea I suddenly felt blessed to have the healthy family I did have. Two sons, 16 and 22, and a daughter, 14, and my oldest son, Mike, who\u2019d been married three years.<\/p>\n I got up to continue my walk, but I only made it 20 yards before I stopped in my tracks. Someone had written the word \u201cgrandma\u201d in the sand. It felt like a sign. When I got home Mike called. He usually called once a week to check in. It was always good to hear his voice.<\/p>\n \u201cHi, Mom!\u201d he said cheerfully.<\/p>\n I couldn\u2019t resist asking. \u201cDo you have any news to share?\u201d I said, remembering the writing in the sand.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Mom,\u201d he said, laughing. \u201cNo babies. You\u2019ll be the first to know. I promise.\u201d Mike and his wife were good-natured about my prodding.<\/p>\n