Kyler's tree is in full fall color. Deep red maple leaves, mixing as they fall with the browns and the yellows, bright spots.

Kyler is my oldest grandson. When his mom found out she was pregnant, and his father freaked out and ran away, she came to us. We wrapped the arms of our family around her, knowing precious few details about the situation other than the child she carried was the child of my eldest son. When a nurse misread a test and there was a concern that the baby might be born with Down's Syndrome, mom said she could not handle it, but could not have another abortion. We talked about it and decided we were willing to raise the child. When the second test revealed a normal child, we rejoiced. We went to lamaze classes, bought baby clothes and toys, and waited. The day of his birth I got sworn at, almost strangled, and my first glimpse at a newborn's first breath. (With the birth of my own children, the damned mirror was always twisted the wrong way)

He looked like Yoda, but I loved every ounce of him.By this time dad had gotten his act somewhat together and come back, and would be in and out of the relationship, but the little man spent many hours with his grandmas. We had our own business at the time, and when mom worked Kyler sat at my side, in his seat, in a booster seat, learning to keyboard first with an old calculator, then an old keyboard and finally at the computer on my lap...I know a few of my clients would have chuckled to know that an 11 month old was helping on their project.

The adults had their ups and downs, and personalities were not meant to meld, but children should not be in the middle. Mom was more needy and needed something she was not going to get, and when that became clear she packed up her toys and went home. Unfortunately her sons were the toys she took away.

Finally after 4 years she will let us talk with them on the phone, but you can hear in their voices and attitudes that mom has poisoned their minds about us as she did about their father. But we still call on birthdays.

I miss my little man...hes 13 now...old enough, in some cultures, to be a man. I hope he is growing as tall as his tree, and has some place to learn the presence of that tree.

Oh, and the tree thing.....each of us, 2 footed and 4 footed have a tree/bush in the yard. Some of us chose our trees, but most were planeted to honor them, at birth, at death. We planted Kyler's tree on his first birthday, His favorite spring task was to see how much the tree had grown compared to his own growth.