Fifteen years ago today, we became grandparents for the first time. If you are a member of that Club, you know the feeling. Words really do fail, even for a writer. But John Michael (who never goes by his full name anymore) actually took our entire clan into a new season. We didn’t know it at the time, but his birth started the subtle shift that soon became a landslide into separate family identities.

The first few months of his life, John Michael was simply Our Baby. He belonged to our family in a communal kind of way. (He still does, if you want to know the truth of it. Tonight, when he steps onto the field as the freshman starting quarterback in a varsity football game, people will be cheering from three states away.) But that first winter, he was a magical addition to our tight-knit, Sunday-dinners, lets-hang-out-on-short-notice, college and young adult family.

But, the world was changing. And we could feel it. John Michael was followed in a short time by Jesse, Andrew, Peter, et al. (Thirteen of them, so far.)All the babies and their parents began to form their own units and establish their own lives.We couldn’t hang out on short notice anymore. In fact, we couldn’t even find a date to have Christmas together some years.

For a traditionalist like me, you would think those losses would matter. But they don’t. Not even a little bit. Do I miss having the clan flopped around the living room on Sunday afternoon watching a movie, eating popcorn, and solving all the problems of the world? Of course I do.

But I love snuggling alone with the man who started this clan. And, I’m totally content knowing everyone else is busy in other cities where other neighbors, churches, schools, and football teams can benefit from hanging out with them, too.

As long as I get the occasional visit, a frequent email, and now and then a Friday night seat in the stands, I’m totally happy. Because John Michael started something wonderful fifteen years ago today. It’s a brand new season. And I love it.