Certainly then, the problem isn't Margo not being able to sleep, the problem is there aren't enough Aunties and Grandmas. Can there ever be enough? Can there ever be too much maternal love?
When my children were growing up, my mother was the perfect grandma. She made dolls and blankets; she filled baskets with toys and goodies; and always she drove or flew to be with her granddaughters. It was her goal to visit once a month. What a Mom, what a Grandma.
I am however, not as generous with my time, nor do I sew and create beautiful packages delivered by UPS. And Margo is a four hour plane ride away--not to mention, no one visits Chicago in the winter. Not even for grandchildren...ah but this may change. The pull is getting stronger.
I stumbled upon the most lovely paragraph ever written by a grandma, a famous grandma.
"Becoming a grandmother turns the page. Line by line you are rewritten. You are tilted off your old center, spun onto new turf. There's a faint scent of deja vu from when you raised your own children, but this place feels freer. Here you rediscover fun and laughing, and reach a depth of pure loving you have never felt before," Leslie Stahl reports.
How unique that through the birth of another human being, I am changed. I am molded.
Beautiful words. A beautiful responsibility. A beautiful blessing: Grandma.