There is a time when your children are the meat of your life. Then, hearing from them or seeing them becomes a seasoning. Perhaps grandchildren are the desert, something sweet at the end.
This is perhaps an infelicitous metaphor, but I think carries my point. Disentanglement, and letting go, and space allowing, can be very hard for involved–perhaps overly involved–parents.
Life is so short, and death is seemingly so long, that I think many parents almost unconsciously intentionally prolong their childrens childhood.
Raising children, watching them grow, is one of life’s greatest pleasures. But it has, and must have, an end.