Actually, my 94 year old grandfather up in PA got pretty sick and we all thought this would be "it" so I packed up Jadyn and myself and got us on a flight up there. Actually, I drove 2.5 hours to a "nearby" airport, flew 2 hours, then drove from that airport about 3.5 hours to his house. Yes, it was an ordeal, and my darling girl spent a total of about 12 hours in her car seat in one day and was mostly content. What a trooper. Oh, and thank the good Lord above for Benadryl. And for helpful people at the airport. You should have seen me pushing Jadyn in her stroller with one hand and a cart full of luggage with the other.
So we were up there for a week. It was good to see the "old stomping grounds" (though I never stomped, so it's a bit of a misnomer), to hang out with a dear friend I've known over 20 years (how on earth did we get this old?) and to let Jadyn spend more quality time with her Oma and Opa. Most importantly, this is most likely the one and only time she'd get to meet her only great grandparent, my Poppop. We went several times to see him in the hospital, contrary to the advisings of friends who said "staph infections are rampant, don't do it". She didn't freak out. Not once. She smiled and laughed as he made silly noises at her. And I got the best picture I could have ever hoped for. She looks for all the world like she knows she's there to help him feel better.
She'll never remember this trip. We'll pull out this picture and tell her about it till she can recite it anecdotally, yet she won't have any personal memory of it. But I will. And I'm glad. All the expense, all the driving, all the worry about how she'd handle it, it was all worth it.
By the way, Poppop rallied (he's just too stubborn to give up) and so far is holding his own. And my reward for all of this? Jadyn finally said, "Mama." We were at the hospital in Poppop's room.