Courage

Hannah & her son, December 2015

I watched Hannah walk the floor comforting my grandson in the way that mothers have been comforting babies since the dawn of mankind. Her soft coos of reassurance for the fussy boy determined to fight sleep kept me mesmerized. This is my legacy, the face of the future (...or one of many). Before he was born, she spoke to me of her concerns. Would she be a good mother? What was she to do if _____ (insert a litany of issues)? She forged on even in the face of a mountain of worries, her courage making me so very proud of the woman she's become. The young woman, with a kind, compassionate heart and a tender spirit and the tiny human she held that we're all just getting to know are cornerstones of my entire world. As for her good mother woes, she took to it like a duck to water, although I'm not sure she believes me when I tell her that.

It occurred to me later in the evening, long after the new little family had gone home and I was tucked away in bed, that when the boy is my age, I'll be gone. I wonder what he'll be like, how his life will have taken shape. I wonder, too, at the state of this world during the time of his mid-life years and worry for the future he'll have to navigate. As he looks into the mirror each day, will he ever know how special he was to me? Perhaps he will not even remember my name, but that's okay. I'll remember his and take it with me into the next life. For now, I'll continue to whisper wondrous things to him during the rare moments when we're alone and I get to cuddle him close. The fact that neither he, nor his mother would even exist without me is humbling and makes me feel a sense of being so BIG and so small in a Universe I barely understand.