Almost six years ago, my daughter was pregnant with my first grandson. Notice she was not pregnant with her son…he is my grandson…when she writes the story she can write it the way she wants. I love you baby girl.
Anyway…many people asked me if I was excited that I was going to be a grandfather. (For the record, my grandsons call me Papa, and I can explain that later.) I corrected each person and told them that I was not “‘going to be a grandfather, I was a grandfather, my grandchild was just living in a different state and I was waiting for him or her (because we did not know yet) to get here.
I am a Christian. I believe life begins at conception and the moment that life began I became a grandfather. I couldn’t play with him yet…but I talked to him. I watched my daughter care for him as she cared for herself, doing all she could to ensure he was healthy.
My wife and I were grandparents and our daughter was a mother…not going to be, we were!
I was there that day, so was my wife, and my daughter’s husband and his parents and we all waited in the hospital for our grandson to arrive…just as we would have if he had been flying in on an airport…we were all standing at the gate.
We knew his name and gender weeks before he arrived but now I could hold him. And just as I did when I first held my daughter, I introduced myself and told him I was his Papa and that I would always love and protect him…and probably get him into some mischief. But then his parents insisted that grandparents had to step back so the parents could “bond” with him…I don’t know what they were thinking, they are going to have eighteen years to bond. Oh yeah, Love you baby girl. SMILE.
We recently celebrated his fifth birthday…but really in my mind, he was five years and nine months. And he has a younger brother who is either eighteen months or twenty-seven months…depending on your point of view.
God bless my grandsons and all who love them.
Leave a Reply