His eyes are so much like his mom’s that I am startled. He nestles into my shoulder, knowing that I’m not his mom, but that somehow – I am safe.
I stare and stare and I have no concept of time. I realize that I could stare at this wonder all day.
This wonder is my grandson.
I look in the mirror and I am somehow less concerned about getting older. I know that this is the way it will go, season after season, year after year. The proverbial circle of life is continuing, and somehow this is right.
He is all sorts of perfect. His soft, clear skin is a contrast to my sun-spotted aging arms. Yet my arms are still strong enough to hold him, to cuddle, to be there as an extra set when parents get tired or need time away. His eyes follow me, then crinkle up. For a moment I’m unsure – will he cry or will he laugh. He laughs, proving our connection in more ways than he knows.
I get chuckles and grunts, coos and yawns. I am smitten by this child of my child, baby from my baby.
Too soon our time comes to an end. The house is empty – only shadows remain as the day wears on.
I smile at the memories. “Until next time Baby” I say softly. Until next time.
Marilyn R. Gardner 
If you think you’re awestruck now, wait till Francis enters college. Then you’ll be dumbstruck.
I am so happy for you!
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Wonderful, Marilyn. Remember your “aging arms” are a human reflection of the everlasting arms!
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I like this Wilma.
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Congratulations to all the family!
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You _are_ safe.
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That word could be used as a descriptor of mediocrity, but I, of course, mean it in as a superlative, as an intensifier for a kind of therapeutic quality that just sort of rolls off of you.
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No matter how many times you hear “being a grandmother is so wonderful” it never really makes sense until it happens. You will be a wonderful grand! (what are you going by?)
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I.Am.Gigi !!!
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And yes- I totally agree. I would look at people and nod, appreciating their comments with a bit of disbelief.
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Beautifully written, Marilyn.
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Oh….! Such sweet grace….!
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