She is such a delight…I really can’t get enough of her.
Nor can her grandpa…so I have to share even in the confines of my own home.
But that is probably a good thing, because, holding her, I am taken back to the happiest days and most precious memories of my life. I cried a lot when our babies were newborn because the joy and love and beauty of it overwhelmed me, just as much as the responsibility.
When Emma is in my arms, I want to do it all over again. I am tempted to swoop in and take over, not to help, but to selfishly relive the most wonderful time of my life.
But that’s not fair. These days belong to her parents – my children by blood and by law – and I steal the blessing from them when I am too possessive, too full of advice, too eager to live their life. I do not want to take anything away from them in this most blessed time of life.
So I restrain myself, and it is not easy. Sometimes I am sparing with my attention because I just can’t trust myself to be satisfied with a little visit, with being the grandma and not the mom. But I am learning to be sated, as well as a grandma can, with the little bits. My old body helps me with this too, reminding me that 30 years ago I was much different than I am now.
And I missed a lot of the wonder.
I guess that is blessing of being a grandparent. God, in his gracious way, gives us another opportunity to enjoy the wonder, after we have acquired some wisdom, and a better perspective, and our main responsibility is to encourage.
How I thank God for the opportunity!
And this precious one…