Awesome. This week we met our grandchild. The first one. A part of me says I’m not old enough to have grandchildren (I definitely am), another part says, wow, finally.
As usual most friends already have grands. And they say they love them. Love getting them. Love having them. Love giving them back.
We, the all purpose universal we, not the royal we, are always ready to dispense advice based on our own experience. I get that. Guilty as charged, I am a great one for sharing. I’d like to say I do it in parable form, but still. And since we announced the inevitability of arrival, we have been told how great this is, how wonderful to be a grand parent. The wonders, apparently are unceasing.
I agree. The wonders if having a child is unceasing. This life that you created is so small, so helpless, so present, the baby comes out screaming, hopefully healthy, with all the parts required.
And, yes, I’d do it all over again. Give the option would mean the unthinkable for my daughter and her husband which is horrific and unthinkable, I’d take this grand, with all the jazzy stuff they have these days. Yes, it would be hard, but it wasn’t easy when we had our own. The up early, go all day, come home exhausted, the day care, the schools, the relationship building. Life.
A part of me misses that. Life. It was happening all around us. Now we get to be support staff, we get to watch our daughter and husband, we get to be there for the next life.
It is an awe-some thing!