Oh, it exists. As a romance reader and writer, I know it is so true. I've been my hero's heroine (or so I hope LOL) for more than three decades, and the two kids he gave me have the sources of so much love and laughter it almost isn't fair.
But it is the grandbaby that weakens my knees, warms my heart, and promises my future. He spent the last two days with us and what fun it was...although the beach wasn't as big a hit as we'd hoped. The sand seemed to tickle his feet too much, the waves seemed too large and noisy. But he loved the big seagulls and dogs running by with their owners. Sitting on a towel, he had a good time with his gramma, making sand starfish and lobsters and fishies with the beachtoys she found at the dollar store.
Last night, he woke up fussy so guess where he spent the remaining hours until dawn? (Yes he is an early riser.) Well, in bed with gramma and grampa. Where else? He has little names for us now although they're impossible to spell.
But it's him living life with his grampa that is my well of inspiration now. There's a new twinkle in my hero's eyes these days. It's both the little guy and the victory over T.C. Life has never been sweeter. Those days of darkness and pain in this blog and the daily journel I scribble in seem more nightmarish than ever when I gather the courage to re-read my words.
It's just a ton easier to read a lovely romance novel. Or to pound away on the keyboard keys as I try to write one.
Seeing my guys together is the dearest reality now. The three generations. My hero, my son, and my grandson.
The personification of all our tomorrows.
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