On the way home from my friend’s wedding, I got to spend about 15 hours in Minnesota. In that short time, James met a lot of family: cousins, Aunts, uncles, and two great-grandmothers.
My Grandma Ernie-my dad’s mom- ooed in her very specific Grandma Ernie way. But the sweetest thing about it was that she looked at my dad and said:
“Oh James, I’m so happy for you. You always loved babies most of all.”
My dad said: “Isn’t this little guy lucky? To have so many people love him?”
I think about that all the time. How James was born being loved. How lucky any of us are to begin with that gift.
When we walked into Monnie’s assisted living home, she was in the lobby playing a word game with a big group. My mom tapped her on the shoulder and told her she had a surprise for her.
Monnie stood and turned and gasped at the sight of me and James. Then she turned to the group and interrupted by loudly proclaiming: “Everyone! Everyone! This is my great-grandson!”
In her room, she held James and told me how happy it made her to see it all go on. “At my age, it’s so wonderful to know that life perpetuates itself.”