I haven’t written much about my grandson yet because honestly how do I condense my feelings for this child into three or four paragraphs? After all he is the reason I started this blog. One day when I'm not around anymore (a very long time from now) he will have this. The stories I share here are for him.
I’m very lucky because I get to see him regularly. Thank goodness for that because he is like air, water and sunshine to me. I could not survive without him. He spent the night last night. My chores didn’t get done. There are still toys on the living room floor. I slept with little feet digging in to my back and four stuffed animals dogs. I’ve been up since the sun “woke up” and will probably be in bed by nine. I don’t care about any of those things. I was just as disappointed as he was when his mother showed up today.
I love my children fiercely, but this thing that Ry and I have going on is different. We are best friends in a way that only grandmothers and grandchildren can be. I don’t even think it has anything to do with me being his mother’s mother. In fact when I tell him “I am your Mommy’s Mommy” he says “No you aren’t, you are my Grandma, Grandma.”
When he was a baby I would hold him for hours, burying my face in his neck, inhaling his sweetness. When he was a toddler my ears begged for the sound of his laughter. Now he is three and has found his voice. The things he says to me bounce around in my head for hours after he has gone. He told me today that he had something to tell his mother when she got here. I asked him what he wanted to tell her and he said “I’m going to tell her to turn around and go home without me.”
When he was born he stole my heart and every day I get farther and farther from ever getting it back.