Sometimes I don't know if I should tell my parents the things that Xander says. Today is one of those occasions.
We were on the way to swimming lessons and there is a hill outside the pool that is covered in dandelions. Last week they were all golden, but this week they've matured and are gone to seed. Xander ran over, picked one, and told me he was making a wish as he blew. Where he got the idea that you make a wish when you blow on a dandelion is a mystery to me; certainly we didn't teach him that one.
He is too young to know that you don't say your wish out loud, because superstitions tell us then they won't come true, so he said, "I wish I could see Grandpa Richard every day."
Grandpa Richard lives in Manitoba, a 26 hour drive from us. He's been missing the boys terribly since their last visit. And today is his birthday.
I am not sure if I should go with how honoured he will feel to be the center of a little boy's wish and tell him or understand that while the honour will be deep, so will the cut that he cannot make this wish come true. I think it would rip out a part of his heart.
Such a hard call. And a sweet, sweet wish.