My friend Sonali, who had a baby before I did, uttered these wise words early on: there’s nothing purer than a child’s relationship with their grandparents.

Or something like that.

I didn’t really understand until I had my own two. Now I know exactly what she means.

It’s a bond that’s open and unquestioning, filled with delight and pleasure, while our own relationships with our parents, no matter how close, are complicated by decades of life and all the stuff that comes with living.

I thought about this when I read this essay. (Thanks, Matt, for flagging it.)

It’s one dad’s meditation on his young son and his own father, with whom the author had a difficult relationship. It ran in the New York Times last weekend.

Made me tear up.

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