They were gently placed in my waiting arms with the most selfless of acts.
I am certain that my children, their parents, only wanted to hold them tightly to themselves, these amazing new bundles of pink blessings. But they knew my need to touch them, to gaze into their eyes, and to wrap my arms around these children of my children. To share in their beautiful new beginnings.
Have you tried travelling with grandchildren? If you haven’t, my husband and I heartily recommend the experience!
In recent years, multigenerational travel has become a growing market. An emerging subset based on this is grandparents and grandchildren are taking trips together, leaving the parents at home.
Have you noticed that something very wonderful is happening to men? Perhaps not all men in every circumstance, but certainly with respect to children in their family. They are becoming so very much more involved. It is a joy to behold.
Ask almost any woman about her new grandchild and she will light up all over, like a young woman in love.
A few years ago, I was walking in the park with my granddaughter, when she spotted an ice-cream shop, just a short distance away. Her eyes sparkled and her mouth worked itself into a cheeky smile as she prepared to convince me why we should pay the shop a visit.
We do our imperfect best. From the moment we push them naked and helpless from our bodies, they’re ours to nurture, protect, and love. They come without instructions and each one is so uniquely different that a single guidebook would never suffice.
One of the real pleasures of having grandchildren is watching them grow into very distinctive individuals.
One minute, there is a little new born baby, looking sweet and untouched. Then, in what feels like no time at all, you suddenly have a child with a strong personality. It is quite breath-taking.
The last 2 weeks have been spent having summer fun with kids and grandkids. These experiences amplified the discussion that was already going on in my head. What will I leave as a legacy? What will be left behind when I am no longer here?
Recently a violent summer storm swept through the Atlanta-area community where we live near our grandchildren. My seven-year-old grandson Owen, who only a few weeks before had finally become comfortable with July 4th holiday fireworks, rushed from his bed to his parents’ room.
Will she go or will she stay? Recorded by the group, Journey, these lyrics from the song, “Never Walk Away,” are about impetuous young lovers who married quickly then realized they didn’t get along. That situation doesn’t apply to me but the question is one I’ve been asking myself for nine months.