Bought the van, sold the house and all its contents, and hit the road. After a year or so, a grandchild was born. I hadn't been one of those doting grandparents, never understood that. But this one, just something about him, we connected immediately. I wasn't about to let him go into daycare at three months, so I volunteered to watch him until he was eight months old. I bought a 15 ft travel trailer, parked it in a nice RV park 12 miles away, and Monday through Friday went to their house and took care of the little guy through that winter. Went back on the road that next summer but missed him so much, I returned and traded the little TT for a larger fifth wheel, parked in the same RV park. That was two years ago. I have him two days a week now. I cannot imagine leaving him behind to go back out but when he gets a little older, I hope to take him on summer trips with me. See things through his new eyes.
Even as an infant, he loved the outdoors. If he was fussy, I'd take him out to the back porch, go for walks in his neighborhood, point out the birds, squirrels, bugs, trees and flowers, we'd lie on a blanket and watch the clouds. Wave at the airplanes. When he started walking and I acquired the bigger RV, I'd bring him to the RV park where we go down to the river and throw rocks into the water, "fish", search for the best sticks to poke into holes and have stick fights, walk the trail in the woods, watch the cows in the pasture across the street, fly kites, have picnics, roast hotdogs and marshmallows over a campfire which I taught him how to build (and he showed his parents how to do the next time they came out). Sometimes I'll take out my tool bag and he plays with the tools (he can tell you what they are and what they're for). On Sundays, the family comes to Gramma's "house". This RV park is out in the country, large sites, a playground near the river that flows by it, a trail through the woods surrounding it. He loves it here and so do I. I gave up the road and gained the unqualified love of this little boy.
Some day, in a few years, he and I will hit the road together to expand his horizons. In the words of Auntie Mame, "Life is a banquet, and most poor folks are starving to death."