Nobody prepared me for the day I’d become a ‘grandmother’. That ‘word’ has been a swear word for the past few months and still feels foreign even though for those few months I’ve been trying to prepare myself for this. I suppose tweaking the ‘word’ slightly to ‘Nana’ or so seems to make it better.
My brain just did not compute that at 38 I’d be a grandmother while others out there are only starting their journeys into parenthood. Wasn’t I relieved when I discovered that I didn’t hold the record for being the youngest. She was 23 and I googled that (blush) ;).
Further complicating matters was concerning myself with what others might think, but my situation is not unique by any means. We raise our kids to the best of our abilities but their comes a time when they follow their own path and start making their own choices, whether good or bad, right or wrong. Do we stop loving them? No, love them nonetheless if not more.
Last night at 11:48 my granddaughter was born. I have not anticipated the amount of love I would feel when I saw that first picture. I never had a daughter of my own, even though I hoped I would, but instead have been blessed with her.
So it seems in all the worrying, fighting and confusion when this little girl was born, so was a Grandmother.