September 13, 2020. One year ago today.
My youngest daughter was almost nine months pregnant. Her due date was less than a week away. Dad was getting excited and concerned. Hey…she’s my baby so I’ll always be concerned.
I sent her a text asking how she was doing. I also said since the due date was getting close, I’d be texting her more often. I wasn’t going to pester her; maybe once a day. That’s not too much, is it? I didn’t think so.
I didn’t get a response but that was unusual. Nothing too concerning. A few hours later I received a text from her husband, my son-in-law, She’d been in labor since the night before. It was hard and going slow, but she was doing fine.
Ten hours later, their son was born. I was a grandpa.
It’s hard to believe it’s been an entire year. Three hundred and sixty-five days. It moves so fast and yet so slow at the same time.
It hasn’t helped that we spent the entirety of year one in the middle of a pandemic. It puts limits on the things you would love to do with a newborn. You have to make the best of the time you do get. But, still the time you get to spend with him is special and precious. The bond grows deeper with each meeting. When you walk out the door after spending an hour or so with him, your heart is so full that you want to turn around, walk back inside and get some more.
So, we’ve made it through year one. Congrats to my daughter and her husband for keeping their child alive and well-fed. Thumbs up, guys. Happy first birthday, little dude. Celebrate large!
And now year one as a grandpa is complete. I can only imagine what will happen in year two. Onward and upward!
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