As of this post, no text or call has alerted me that my grandchild is ready to meet the world. So I must do what is hardest for me to do: wait.
My daughter, on the other hand, is gracefully dealing with the last days of pregnancy in ways that delight me. We joined the expectant couple for a long walk to a late dinner last Saturday night, in the middle of a New York City heat wave. And yesterday, at her suggestion, we went to the beach, where 96 degree sand led to a cool ocean. Watching my very pregnant daughter swim and laugh and emerge refreshed reminded me how it is possible to bring style and joy to the last weeks of the ninth month. I watched her, under an umbrella, enjoying a summer plum, and allowed myself to relax a little, too.
How do grandparents-to-be pass the time? I’m hoping that the phone will ring before I run out of ways. Until then, suggestions are welcome.