Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Today is my first grandchild's first birthday. I'm torn between joy, and utter devastation.

You see, my son sent me a couple of videos this week, of my grandson walking. Last I saw my grand baby, he was still trying to find his center, stay balanced without the aid of furniture, someone's hand, or his wheeled push-toy. Now he's toddling the length of my son and DIL's home. Cue laughter. And tears.

My grandson's gone from Surprise, we're pregnant! to a fully actualized little person complete with a life-size personality.

When he's happy, he grins. When he sees something he wants, or that captivates him, he extends his hand, palm up, and "whoos". He loves trees; and anything with wheels, especially if he can push it. Blueberries, raspberries, yogurt, bath time, and the family dog also get high marks. He's less enthusiastic about bedtime and diaper changes. And when he's mad, well, he's mad. There is no doubt in my mind, he is his father's son.

My eldest, too, loved anything with wheels. He still does. His smile lights up a room. And his temper is equal only to... mine. And his father's. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Ask my  mom, who got it from her father. It's a family thing.

That is what devastates me. And buoys me.

I hope to be around to welcome my grandson's firstborn and give thanks for the opportunity to hold the future. There are no guarantees, of course, which is why I intend to make the most of what time I do have with my grandson, and all those I love, for as long as that may be. And when friends, school, sports, and building a life eventually dominates my grandson's time I'll be content to watch from the sidelines, safe in the knowledge that he is weaving new and colorful threads into the ever changing, slightly frayed, and always precious tapestry that is our family.

Happy 1st Birthday, Little One. Grandma loves you.

In youth we learn; in age we understand. ~Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach

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