Becoming a grandmother has meant more than falling in love with my granddaughter, which I expected to do and so easily did. It has also made me fall in love all over again with my children.
Not lack of sleep or time alone, nor constant demands to be simultaneously flexible and scheduled have made Winnie’s parents any less loveable. In fact, the depth of my love for them grows when I witness how they care not just for Winnie but for each other. She is the most important person in their lives, but she is not all they discuss. After making her food and nursing and pumping and filling her days with words and music and all kinds of weather, after dealing with the work they do, they remain engaged with the world. They are good company and jovial hosts, and Winnie is reaping the benefits. Their smiles are genuine and grateful, and when a smile is sent in my direction, the effects carry me through my week.
Winnie’s aunt and godmother scoops Winnie up and surrounds her with laughter and smiles and hugs. Winnie is adored and when her future uncle sings to her with his guitar, she clearly adores him back. When I look at my granddaughter with her aunt and uncle, I know she will always be a part of their lives. They choose that. Can I love them more?
Children clearly inspire a love that grows. Who knew? I would have told you, as my daughters were growing up, that I could not love them more. But then they become parents and aunts and the love multiplies and grows even deeper at a time in life when I am happy to share in it, when I need to know it’s there.