By David Whitlock
Goodbyes can be frightening when they hold the possibility of prolonged separation and being forgotten.
You don’t have to be on your deathbed to feel that.
I can see it already in my 2-year-old grandson, Eli Benson.
I let him drive my car. Don’t worry, he doesn’t really drive. But don’t tell him, because he thinks he does. Eli meets me at the front door with determined eyes and declares, “Eli drive Poppop’s vroom vroom.”