Is there a rule that says when you become a grandmother you have to be mature? After much contemplation, I’ve decided that the answer would be a resounding — .Nah — ..! I have recently been ushered into a new life phase — make that a wonderful, new life phase. My son’s wife just gave birth to a precious little girl named Catherine (Cat). She’s purrr — fect! I’m noticing that because of her, I have begun to trespass into the realm of complete goofiness. What is even more interesting is that I’m completely comfortable with this. Cat has been a wonderful gift to our family, as are all grandchildren.
It’s an entirely new and quite remarkable modern world that encapsulates the process through the months of pregnancy right into the delivery room. I remember the day I received the revealing 4-D ultrasound pictures of my granddaughter over my cell phone while having lunch with friends. I could have sworn I saw bows in her hair. It blew my mind to be privy to such pictures and was a definite form of instant gratification.
Then a few short months later, my son text messaged me to say that they were leaving for the hospital. As I was driving to the hospital in anticipation of the delivery, I was struck by the natural progression of life as I so clearly remembered the day I was riding to the hospital in anticipation of his birth. It was hard to believe that I was on the way to witness the birth of his child.
Cat was ushered into the world surrounded by whopping amounts of love from friends and family. My friends and one stranger were all part of her delightful entrance. (I’ll explain.) After visually witnessing the miracle of little Cat in her mom’s arms, it was naturally my innate duty to begin the process of texting pictures from my phone of Cat to my friends — pronto — My words that went along with it were, “Here are pictures of my grandchild, Cat.!”
I suppose I was texting in an excited haphazard fashion because I received a text back from one saying, “What a beautiful grandchild! Who are you?” Oops — I responded back that I had accidentally mis-texted (if that’s a word?) in the wrong number. She/he then replied, “No worries. Enjoy your beautiful grandchild!” And so I have —
Advance forward — to my first day of babysitting. I wanted so much to keep Cat content while in my company. I completely forgot that I am an atrocious singer, but that didn’t stop me from singing to her off key (albeit softly so as not to scar her for life). In between the singing, I found myself saying goofy nonsensical things. But the one sentence that I said over and over which had merit was, “You’re a precious, little angel, Cat!” I tried not to sing it, so as not to ruin that special sentence. I suspect I’ll be repeating those exact words over her lifetime. I so look forward to walking along beside her in this great journey called “life,” as I sing off key and act immature in hopes of making her smile —