Recent research has shown that kids need their grandparents more than we realize – Here is why

Recent research has shown that grandparents can have a profound impact on their grandchiIdren’s lives. By spending time with their grandchildren, grandparents can offer valuable support and guidance, especially in today’s complex world.

Grandparents possess a wealth of knowledge and experience, having navigated difficuIt times before, and they know how to handle various situations.

Studies have found that chiIdren who have active grandparents in their lives are generally happier and healthier than those who don’t.

There are many reasons for this, including the fact that grandparents can provide valuable life lessons and share their wisdom with their grandchildren. Additionally, grandparents are often great sources of humor and can bring joy and laughter to their grandchildren’s Iives. They can also be reliable and trustworthy babysitters, which is a great help for new parents.

Studies show kids need their grandparents more than we realize
1. Grandparents foster happiness.

A new study published in The GerontoIogist by Sara Moorman and Jeffrey Stokes confirmed that unity between grandparents and adult grandchildren has a significant impact. Their investigation revealed that higher levels of interpersonaI affinity between these two groups result in reduced depression symptoms for both.

2. Older relatives may provide a sympathetic ear to children.
Grandparents can serve as an additional outlet for children to express their emotions when they are upset with their parents.

While kids may be skilled at finding reasons to cry or complain, a caring grandmother’s ear can make a significant difference. Since children sometimes ignore their parents’ advice, grandparents may be better equipped to provide guidance and feedback that the children will truIy take to heart.

3. They serve as a reminder of our family heritage.
Grandparents are often an important link to our past and family history, which are integral parts of our identity. Through sharing stories of their childhood and our ancestors, they help us gain a deeper understanding of ourseIves and our heritage, creating a stronger sense of connection to our past.

Four Years after My Husband Went Missing, a Dog Brought Me the Jacket He Was Wearing on the Day He Disappeared

Maggie had finally accepted that her husband had vanished on a solo trip four years prior. Maggie felt a surge of hope as their ancient family dog unexpectedly appeared, holding her husband’s faded jacket in its mouth. She followed the dog into the forest, motivated by something beyond reason, and discovered a truth beyond her wildest dreams.

I recall the day Jason departed like it was yesterday. He’d been fighting a bad attitude for months, yet this morning he appeared almost calm. He informed me he wanted a day alone in the mountains with Scout, our beloved black Labrador. Our children, too young to understand, were content simply watching their father scratch Scout’s ears, his first smile in weeks breaking across his face.

“Are you sure you don’t want company?” I inquired as I carried our toddler son, Benny, while our four-year-old daughter, Emily, squeezed my leg.

But he never returned.

The hunt began as soon as he failed to return that night. Friends, neighbors, and search teams explored the forest, shouting out his name, their voices echoing in the vast woods. Weeks passed, and everyone began to look at me with a horrible combination of sympathy and helplessness. After months, they proclaimed him legally de:ad, which I had no choice but to accept, though I was never completely at peace with it.

Life continued on. Jason’s hiking boots remained by the door, and his coffee mug, which had a chip on the rim, was never moved. When the kids asked about him, I’d tell them stories and do my best to keep his memory alive.

For illustration purposes only

Then, on a calm Saturday, as I lay on a blanket watching the kids play in the backyard, I observed movement in the bushes. It was a thin, scruffy dog with a matted and muddy coat. At first, I did not recognize him. But then my heart skipped a beat. It was Scout. After all these years, here he stood, old and fragile but unmistakable.

“Scout?” I whispered, and as if in response, he took a step closer, a familiar green jacket dangling from his mouth—Jason’s favorite hiking jacket. I barely had time to process before Scout turned and started trotting toward the trees. Driven by a mix of hope and fear, I told the kids to stay put and followed.

Through the winding paths, over damp leaves and under low-hanging branches, Scout kept leading me deeper into the forest. And just as the sun began to dip below the trees, we came upon a small, weathered cabin nestled into the woods, almost camouflaged against the thick trunks and greenery.

Inside, moving around as if he’d never left, was Jason.

His hair was long and knotted, with a scruffy beard covering his face, and he appeared to be at ease in his alone. But he wasn’t alone—a woman stood alongside him, close and comfortable, as if they had a life together. My pulse hammered as I grasped the scope of Jason’s secret life.

I pushed open the door, and the creak startled both of them. Jason’s eyes widened, his face a mixture of amazement and acceptance.

“Maggie…” he murmured, his voice too calm and nonchalant.

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“Jason,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I looked to the woman next to him, then back at him. “What is this?” I asked, unable to believe what I was seeing.

His response dashed any hope I had left: “I found something real here, something I couldn’t have back there.” He looked to the woman next him and said, “Sarah and I have built a simple, meaningful life.”

His words felt prepared and hollow. Every reason he offered only fueled my sense of betrayal. I’d been grieving him for years, raising our children alone, convinced that he was no longer with us. And now, here he was, rationalizing a full abandonment that had ruined the life we had created.

Without saying another word, I turned and walked away. The guy I had loved, the father of my children, was a ghost I no longer recognized.

For illustration purposes only

The next morning, I sat across from a lawyer, feeling stronger than I had ever been. “I want a divorce,” I replied, “and I want support for our children.”

That day, I let go of the life I’d been holding onto. I realized that Jason had chosen one route, but I had to construct my own, one based on love, honesty, and stability. I would shield my children from a world full with false promises, and I would never look back.

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