This is my grandson. My first grandchild. Beau. I sit with him, holding him, unable to take my eyes off of him. A miracle. The new parents are going through what all new parents go through. Elation. Exhaustion. Worry. Joy. I’d love to be able to remove all the anxiety and overwhelming fatigue, but the hardest hours are theirs alone to bear.
Grandmoms just get the joy.
But I remember. I remember never eating a hot meal for years as the babies always knew when to disrupt my life for maximum effect. Never getting enough sleep. Never laying aside the fears of what might harm my precious child. Never feeling up to the task. Loving so deeply that I would for the first time in my life sacrifice myself for that little brand new being.
So I sit here now with the sweet memory of his little head resting on the crook of my arm. Then, the picture of my own dear son, gathering Beau into his arms, kissing him as he carries him up the stairs to his wife for another sleepless night.
Lord bless them and keep them. In their bleary-eyed ministrations through the night, they don’t know that the most precious moments of existence are ticking slowly by as guardian angels gather near watching with breathless wonder.
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Beautiful
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