Tag Archives: granddaughter

Grand – ness

Often, I ponder writing again. Then I consider that I am not who I was when I wrote before… so how to begin?

It came to me finally – where to find my voice, my inner priority.

I have a grandson.

I haven’t posted – I haven’t spoken – much about him

He’s grandpa’s boy, really. They are sweet together, they are. I am so glad that Grandpa Rick has this, this grandpa thing with this grandpa’s boy.

But he’s my grandson. I cannot convey to you the depth of this. This… grandma to a son of my son thing. This stretch of heart across two generations. You don’t know, you can’t fathom what I feel…

We bonded, like his father and I before, he and I. At his early moments, his bonding body stage, the tiny moments… I thank you Sara – I don’t know if you know what it meant to me to have the tiny baby to matronly breast period of bonding, feeling, remembering and knowing that this tiny person was a heart thief, an extension of heart moment that I recalled from decades before… I love that you allowed me this time. How very thoughtful of you.

His dad and I shared that bond. That sameness of feel, that love and connection – that pride. A son. Such a wonderful, proud experience it was to raise my son.

He has heard my pleas. I know I could have done better = and he won’t hear it.

No. You did fine and I’m doing it the same way.

He makes me so proud. My Son. My Sonshine. He is the best of me, the best of his dad. He is a very fine man. You should know him – he is an honor to know and to observe.

He chose a very fine spouse, a corresponding strength. I don’t have relationship skills like I should for caring for women. I have learned habits that need repair, rewiring. I don’t know how to befriend… to trust and care for one of those persons once defined as vile to me, a thing to avoid. A little bit of truth seeping out – those who are abhorrent of women do great damage to their daughters’ relationship skills. Just sayin’.

Granddaughter – I have a granddaughter. One more also as, in my heart, I adopted a sweet young woman in her youth – what a great time I had knowing this sweet and inquisitive beauty! I digress – this granddaughter who is my own – so special and so loved in a new way – this is my heir, my blood, my continuance of a line tossed across the generations by my own grandmother, my mother’s mom. Hated by others for who she was and the life she lived, she… was gone so young. She gave me an idea of my matronage line, German. passed along to me when she faced her short future, as she planned her last years. My identity.

My granddaughter is how I continue that, how I learn how to have a female relationship. Her mother is helping to prep me – thankfully, she is an understanding and nurturing mate for my son. Mother to my granddaughter and my grandson. and a fine spouse, a loved woman, wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt.

My grandson. The reason for this post. I love them both so much, but I have not given the truth. My grandson will hold, for me, a place special in his own right. He is the son of my son, the inheritance. Male continuance. Something I believe strongly.

Grand – ness.

Anticipate

It’s Sabbath morning and quiet surrounds me, envelops me. The cat lies curled at my feet, steamy coffee sits nearby, soft light clears the darkness and the background sounds of the house tick and whir around me.

A week long shutdown, the usual for this time of year, for hubby and I. We’ve always remained at home – joining throngs of travelers in questionable weather conditions never made sense to us for this shutdown week – and this year is no different… except.

The guys are still sleeping, stirring a bit, beginning to ease out of their deep sleeps. And I, quietely awake with my thoughts, my anticipation. Planning. Imagining.

We will arrange to pick up sweet granddaughter tomorrow. She will come and stay with us this week, merging into our household patterns and creating new ripples. I’ve puttered and shuffled and fussed this week, to create spaces throughout the house to give her entertainment nooks, and creativity niches and playtime crannies. Some spaces are for time spent in the great grandad area of the house, and some spaces are for time spent in the grandad area of the house, and a little bit of space set aside to relish as her own.

It’s new to us still, this sharing of our lives with my dad – and the temporary addition of sweet granddaughter is another new to add to the experience. He’s not an overly involved elder, and I expect he’ll sit amused for a spell and then be ready to resume his standard schedule.

A lot of new to us happened this calendar year, nearly all of it beginning in this biblical year as well. Pandemic announce and response, fear and anxiety settling into actions and acceptance; my dad’s hospitilization in the throes of the fear and feeling the helplessness of a loved one held captive in the healthcare system as we worried from the other end of the phone signal; awareness of dad’s near-death and bringing him home to care for him – then watching over the months as his physical health stabilized; accepting that he wasn’t going back to his rented house and then packing and storing his lifetime goods; finding ourselves with a rental house and a resident elder and not having prepared for this scenario – and then deciding to finish and sell the rental, as time constraints and wisdom caution us to not overbook ourselves with responsibility; finding out during this phase that my siblings are only ever self-serving and our open door policy has, over time, created their expectation that we are only for serving their needs — an awareness that we countered by setting firm boundaries; the delight in a week spent lakeside in fall, to rest and refresh our overwrought minds and bodies; a surprise opportunity for a quick first time visit with a long-time friend, the Hebrew priest, who has been a long-distance community member for over a decade – to finally meet he and his youngest son, and receive garden advice at our home – a poignant segment of time by which to remember this year.

And now, tomorrow, to host our granddaughter for the week – she’s six now and will perhaps receive and participate in memories during this stay that will last her lifetime – the memories will certainly last my lifetime.

Ah, shabbat. The anticipation is savored and held close to my heart on this day of rest.