Emma sent me another one of her beautiful photos of Robin last night, and I was startled. Robin is at that point where she is no longer a child but a young woman. Yesterday, she went running with Emma in Brooklyn, which brought her life into focus and shook me up.

The photo makes it clear.

As all children do (it’s a cliche), Robin is growing up, and Emma’s beautiful pictures keep me informed and connected. As I predicted, Robin and I are not incredibly close; I don’t see her often enough. But I do love her, and I love seeing the excellent job that Emma and her husband Jay have done raising her.

When I was a child, I was always baffled and annoyed when adults made such a fuss of my growing bigger and older. It was the first thing older people said to me.

What did they expect, I wondered?  That I would shrink? Don’t all of us grow older?

The image of her running along with Emma made me pause and realize how short life is and how far away I am from my daughter and her daughter. She’s no toddler now.

It’s okay. I’m very close to Emma these days, and we talk often, openly, and efficiently. I don’t have to be there to appreciate and feel it in my heart.

In our strange new world, there are many ways to stay in touch. I make myself felt.

I have found several ways to support Robin and get her some tools she loves to read and play with.

I always let her know how remarkable I think she is. I think she knows that.

Once I overcame the shock of picturing her jobbing with Emma, I felt a rush of gratitude. We laugh together at the strangeness of life.

It’s what I hoped for for both of them. Robin has so many things I never had and a bunch of things Emma did have. To me, that’s a great success and a reason for joy.

I write this with pride and contentment, not regret or sadness. I predicted this from the beginning.

As I have often said, I’m not one of those grandparents whose life begins with a grandchild. I want my own life to be the focal point of life, not someone else’s child.  Emma knows what she is doing; she doesn’t need me to be in her face. And she wouldn’t like it.

I love seeing these photos, and I thank Emma for understanding.

My first wife Paula and I raised Emma to be independent and well-equipped to care for herself, just like her mother, and that is what happened. She is another remarkable woman in my life.

I am grateful for that and for the chance to see Robin evolve into the remarkable person she is. Emma insists my blood is in there, and more and more, I get a sense of that.