It's Monday again and I have high hopes for this week. I'm meeting a new friend for an early dinner tonight and my daughter and I are going to finish wrapping up baby gifts for her brother (my son) and his wife and get those sent out. They're expecting their first baby soon. Even though this will make my fourth grandson (the three others belong to my youngest daughter and her husband), I am no less thrilled at the arrival of the fourth than I was at the birth of the first three. No child's birth is any less special than any other's; they just arrive at different times.
Any grandparent will tell you that. The thrill of welcoming a brand new life, a living, breathing little human being, into this world is exhilarating beyond words and never fades, no matter how many grandchildren are born into the family. Add to that the fact that my blood, and that of my children and their father, runs through the veins of that tiny blessing, and you've got a recipe for great joy. Even though we know this child is a boy, there is still the wonder of speculating whose ears or nose or eyes or hair he will inherit. But despite any similarities to others, this child will be a precious individual. He may share his family members' physical characteristics, but his personality, his very being, will be his and his alone.
I can hardly wait to meet him!
Until the next time...