Donovan is named after Donovan--meaning, my son is named after my Dad. Dad is still around and kicking, thank you. He is a first time grandparent at 82, a fact that he finds so amusing/befuddling that he likes to mention it to strangers in the doctor's office.
The Original Donovan (OD) came back home from a rehab facility this weekend--not in the Lindsey Lohan sense but in the needs-to-gain-some-strength-back sense. He'd been in the home for about 2 months after a fall at home. Our monthly visit with the boy coincided with Dad coming home.
Having worked at a rest home in my youth, I had some trepidation about coming home. Dad is now confined to the ground floor of the house with a hospital bed set up in the dining room, which is now his bedroom. Bedroom complete with 3 china hutches. It was pretty hard to see him use a walker, eat while wearing a bib, and have trouble getting around. That being said, he's still him and it was nice to hang out with him and watch him fuss over his grandson. Mike and I have managed to make a very happy baby who, if he's fed and rested, will babble and smile incessently, which is just perfect for out of town grandparents who are happy to stare at him for hours.
My Mom tried to talk me into leaving Lil' D there for August. I don't think he would have minded.