Remember the fever of young love that fosters irrational behavior in the effort to spend endless hours together? When you just can’t get enough of that person and others worry that you’re being obsessive?
Those who have preceded me into the grandparent club had told me this would be a marvelous experience. I knew that would be true, but no one mentioned the fever. Who can explain this all-consuming desire to hold this heaven-sent bundle close to my heart and gently rock her as I whisper into her ear of all the wonderful things God has in store for her?
I left there last week and it will only be 2 more weeks until we make the 7 hour drive again and that’s just not working for me. My husband asked, “what do you want to do, move down there?” As a matter of fact I do! My feelings defy reason and logic, but that’s really nothing new.
I’ve wondered if there’s some primitive pull that‘s part of the tradition of verbally transmitting the knowledge of motherhood to the next generation. Mother to daughter, generation after generation. But I have a friend that has sons and I suspect she feels this way too, so that can’t be it.
We’ve hooked up Skype and a webcam on our computers and I do get to see her “live" everyday and talk to her. Uncommon Blonde says I can be a digital Nana when I’m not there and sing her to sleep. That’s cool, but doesn’t allow me to feel her soft baby skin and smell her fresh, sweet scent. Cupcake is still there helping and she’s as smitten as I am. There’s a longing in my heart…