Going to Grandma's house on Christmas Eve has been a Thompson tradition ever since we began adding grand kids to their family tree and every year we would trade-off visiting with my parents, as well: dinner here, dessert over there, etc…
My kids are very lucky to have both sets of grandparents in their lives, they know it, we know it and, now that my kids are older (aren't we all?) I'm beginning to truly understand why our folks look forward to having their grandchildren around them, especially during the holidaze.
My father would joke with my kids, thanking them for "re-charging" Papa after each and every visit.
Aaaaaand, as I get older (physically, because mentally I'm still, like, not even out of my teens, yet!) I'm realizing the same restorative power, every time one of my children insist that I stop whatever it is I'm doing, RIGHT NOW, because he or she NEEDS a hug.
We had my in-laws over for dinner, last night. Although they live just a five or ten minute car ride away (because, in Jersey, we speak in the time it takes to get somewhere rather than mileage) we haven't visited with Grandma and Grandpa since Thanksgiving.
It's been a tough year for my in-laws. Just last night, my father-in-law admitted that any and all of the mileage put on their car is for doctor visits and trips to the pharmacy, which is pretty much how my parents spend their days, plus or minus a trip (or twenty) to B.J.'s.
This year, my sister-in-law broke the news that Garth (not his real name) and I would be hosting Christmas Eve (without me, and with good reason) so, I baked one of my mother-in-law's favorite desserts (chocolate gingerbread cake, and it was good) to help soften the blow.