So, it’s on to the next chapter of my life. I’ve got a milestone birthday coming up later this month, and I became a grandfather yesterday.
It’s a miracle of good timing. I’m finding that one more than compensates for the other.
Holding my first grandchild within hours of her birth reminded me – how could it not? – of holding her mother just minutes after her own birth. Both times I was handed a warm bundle with an impossibly small human being inside. The tiny blankets were wrapped so tightly that I had to be reminded how much babies love to be swaddled.
Both times – that time 30 years ago and then again yesterday – I looked down at what I was holding and cried. Both times a girl looked back at me with surprisingly alert eyes and sized me up pretty quickly as a pushover.
I am. And have no regrets about it.
There’s not a lot to do with a newborn except look. And look. And then you realize how much is happening with that look, how a powerful bond is being formed, yes, but also how a larger truth is being revealed.
In the looking there’s a recognition of the gift of life – mine well along now, and hers just beginning.
(Pictured above is my daughter Sarah, her husband Ben, and the very pink and healthy Gwendolyn.)
(That’s me, holding the focus of everyone’s attention.)